We Can Always Feel This Way
by scratchtheplans
Summary: Evelyn was trapped, and Tommy just wanted to save her. Can love really outsmart all odds?
1. Something I've Wanted All Along

**YAYAYAY! FIRST COMPLETED STORY EVEEERRRR! This is my pride and joy, no lie. **

**Anyway, there are a few things you need to know: I did use the real name of a daughter of Bruce Ismay, but I don't actually know how old she was during the Titanic journey, and she obviously didn't go with him. I fudged the time-line a little so that I could have more to write, and I know I fucked up translating the Irish accent. I'm sorry, but it's the best I could do.**

**I set up a Tumblr for the story. If you want to see the characters' pictures, then go to my profile, and click the link for my story Tumblr! :D**

**Anyway, I really hope you like it!  
**

_Something I've Wanted All Along_

I had always loved America when I was younger. My parents took me, my sisters and brothers there on one of my father's company's many luxury ships when I was fourteen. I fell in love with everything, the atmosphere, the people, the food…it all intrigued me to the point that I cried the whole entire journey back home to England.

I have made only three trips to and from there since, all with only my father, Bruce Ismay. It was custom for him to go on the maiden voyage that each of his company's (the White Star Line) ships made, and I made sure to kick up a fuss every time one went to America. My siblings, not having a liking for anything other than money and power, never went with us.

When I found out that I would be making another trip there for my nineteenth birthday, I was positively thrilled. But when I walked in on my personal maid packing for me, I became suspicious.

I had looked around at all of my luggage with confusion. If I was only staying for a few days, why did I need the entire contents of my closet?

"What's going on, Rebecca?" I'd asked cautiously.

She'd turned around with a slight pink tinge to her cheeks and mumbled, "Mistress Julia told me to send you to her."

"Why does my mother need to speak to me?" I asked sharply. I didn't particularly get along with either of my parents. Their fondness for wealth and position was not one I truly shared. They rather irked me most of the time, and I was nearly positive that they knew that.

"I don't know, Miss Evelyn," she said guiltily, "and I should never ask. I know my place." She turned on her heel, and tucked another pair of shoes in a bag.

I'd walked as fast as I possibly could with my spine straight and my heels clacking to my mother's library, where she spent nearly all of her time. I knew something that I wasn't going to like was about to happen when she set down her book and fixed me with a stern look.

"Evelyn," she'd said seriously, "you're nineteen now. Bruce and I have allowed you plenty of leniency on your future, but the time for allowing this has passed." She took a deep breath, and I could feel fear bubbling inside of me. "I'm certain you remember Carlton Weston. You met on your last journey with your father to New York."

Carlton Weston, how could I forget? He was tall, muscular to the point that he looked rather fat, plain-faced, and pompous enough for several millionaires. He was so obnoxious the last time we'd encountered each other (talking endlessly of his numerous houses, the well-to-do company he would inherit from his father, and the many women who were trying to catch his eye) that I feigned a headache and retired from the dinner party four hours early.

"What of him?" I snapped, not even trying to keep my tone civil.

"He has asked your father for your hand," she replied evenly. I was so horrified that I slumped against the wall with my mouth slightly open. "Your father has agreed. Once you go to America…you won't be coming back."

I was sick, absolutely nauseous. I couldn't even breathe. I had to _marry_ that…ass? He was nothing short of detestable! "But," I floundered, spluttering crazily, "what about…a ceremony? Mustn't you be there?"

"Your father will stay out there with you for a month, by which time the ceremony will be put together," she said, almost like a memorized speech. "I will then bring your siblings and join you for the wedding. Your father will return with me afterward."

I desperately struggled for another flaw in the plan even though I knew that they had most likely thought it out so well that it would be impossible to poke any holes in it. I was light-headed. I knew that I would never be able to pick my husband, but I never imagined…Carlton Weston! I couldn't, wouldn't marry that man! I loathed him to his very core. I would run away if I had to!

"You will do as I say," my mother hissed icily, as if she were reading my rebellious thoughts. "He is going to inherit the most prominent trading company in his country. Do you understand just what that could mean for you? You would be set for life!"

I made a strangled sound, and then bellowed, "I don't want to be 'set for life'! I'd rather be poor than marry that bastard!"

She was up so fast that I didn't even see her move, and before I could be surprised, she'd slapped me so hard across the face that I stumbled.

"Never," she snarled, "will you raise your voice or use that sort of language in front of me again, Evelyn." She swept a stray strand of dark brown hair (identical to mine) from her face, and then continued, "You're marrying Carlton."

She'd walked from the room, and left me there to cry, which I did for nearly an hour. No one came to see if I was alright, even though I heard footsteps pass the door multiple times.

I thought of the past as I laid there on the floor, the days when my mother was the sweetest woman you'd ever meet. She would laugh loudly, unlike all the other women at the parties who would giggle quietly. She didn't much care about the silly first class things that everyone else worried about, and she was always there for me when most of my friends had nannies. I'd watched the years of being married to my father and being paraded through society events stomp the life out of her until she was just as cold as the rest. The last time I'd seen her laugh honestly was when I was twelve.

For the rest of the week leading up to my voyage to America on the Titanic, I stayed in my room most of the time. I barely ate or drank; I didn't wash or change my clothes. All I did really was write; which was one of my passions. I could get all of my feelings out on paper, and then twist them into a story so that they weren't my feelings at all. They were a character's and they were almost always something spectacular that I could never even hope of being.

The day of the departure several maids came and forced me into the bath, washed me like a small child, and dressed me before wrenching my hair into an elaborate knot held together by a multitude of pins.

A hat was placed on my head that perfectly matched the deep purple dress I was adorning. I was forced in front of a mirror, and I stared into my own eyes while Rebecca smeared lipstick across my bottom lip. I had the strangest eyes, a strange green that was close to yellow. They were catlike, and my sisters always said they were sinister. I thought they were different in a good way, when not filled with rage, depression, and panic as they were now.

My father and I weren't lead through the inspection queue when we arrived, of course. They put us right onto the ship, and we had the three best cabins in the whole thing. Rebecca came with us to assist me, and I sat broodingly on one of the luxurious sofas while she unpacked a few of my bags for me.

I always thought that when I moved to America, I'd be so happy that I wouldn't be able to sit still. I would finally get away from my family, and I could start my own life. I could even work, as a writer. It would have been perfect. I did not even have to marry. I could make my own way! Now I could never have that life. I would be the typical housewife, only useful for a trophy and making babies. I would stand silently on Carlton Weston's arm while he boasted about whatever he felt was best about him at the time, and I would silently hope that a passerby might shoot him or me; it would not matter which one.

I was shaken from my thoughts by my father invading my cabin. He looked around impressively at the room while I glowered at him. He was tall, over six feet, and he had medium brown hair that all of my other siblings had inherited. A huge mustache took up his whole upper lip, and seemed to never move, even when he talked or had just woken up. He was wearing his best suit, and had a smug grin on his face.

"Evelyn, dear," he said (I tried not to cringe when he called me 'dear'); "I would like you to accompany me to the deck to see the ship off."

"No," I said simply, returning my glare to the floor.

"You'll do as I say," he said, using his no-nonsense voice. "It is important that society sees you walking willingly into this marriage."

"But it's not willing, is it?" I muttered angrily.

"Well, that is beside the matter," he said, waving his hand like he was shooing the problem away. "We're Ismays. We must always show a positive and proper face to the public."

I was so irate, that I nearly jerked his shoulder out of the socket when I took his arm. He didn't seem to notice though, because he only walked me down the hallway and checked his pocket watch. "Nearly time," he muttered, picking up the pace.

When we arrived on deck, there were hoards of passengers there; waving merrily to the people they were leaving behind. Even if my family were here to say goodbye to, I still would not have joined the crowd. I was nothing less than livid with the lot of them.

I was introduced to the ship captain, Smith, and another man who had worked on the designing of the ship named Andrews. I shook hands with them, and became dutifully silent. We were relatively close to the railing, and I watched the smiling people getting the last glimpse of their loved ones before they set sail across the Atlantic. On the deck below the second and third class passengers also said goodbye, but they were of course separated from us. The thought of our deck being the same as ours would have been scandalous to anyone in high society, but I was rather uncaring about the matters of class. In all honesty, I didn't care about much of anything. I was a very indifferent young woman.

"…Evelyn?" I heard my name, and looked back at the two men my father had been talking to. They looked at me expectantly, and I realized I'd been asked a question.

"I beg your pardon?" I said quickly.

"I said I heard that you'll be getting married in a month," Andrews repeated. "I offer my congratulations."

I inhaled to tell him that his congratulations were unnecessary because I hoped my fiancé was kicked to death by a group of wild horses, but a sharp nudge in my ribs reminded me that I was supposed to be happy about this. I plastered a huge fake smile on my face, as I normally did when around people of my same class, and said, "Oh, yes, sir. I was most pleased when I heard of the arrangement," and of course I didn't spend hours bawling all over my library floor.

They both grinned approvingly at me, and my father looked smugger than ever. A very loud horn sounded, and I nearly jumped out of my skin. I just refrained from using an unladylike curse. The four of us turned our attention to the dock far below, where many men were sprinting around to send the ship off. After about a minute or so of waiting, we started to drift. The cheering and calling to relatives and friends was so loud that I could barely hear my father saying that this had been the biggest turnout for a sendoff that he'd ever seen.

Once the ship was well away from the dock, I told my father that I was going to read for awhile before lunch in an hour. He let me go, and I was so relieved that a smile stayed on my face as I made my way back to my cabin. I was rounding the corner that lead to the hallway off which my cabin sat when I heard my name called. I turned, and saw Ruth Dewitt-Bukater and her daughter, Rose. Our families had been friendly in England, when they had lived there before Mr. Dewitt-Bukater died. He was close with my father, so Rose and I had been forced playmates as children. I smiled friendlily as I kissed both of their cheeks respectfully.

"Mrs. Dewitt-Bukater, Rose, it's so very nice to see you," I said, in my most proper, light tone. That voice had been ingrained into me from the time I was a small child. A woman was always supposed to be seen not heard…admired. If you spoke to loud or brashly when you did speak, it ruined the whole picture.

"You as well, Evelyn," Ruth said. Her eyes trailed from the top of my hat to the tips of my shoes with her judging eyes, and I wondered what about me she was tearing apart in her mind. Perhaps it was the fact that some curls had fallen from my hairstyle because of the high winds and were now falling about my neck, or maybe she thought the neckline on my dress was too revealing. When her eyes met mine and one side of her lips curled up evilly, I knew it must be my eyes. They were a common joke among the ladies of society. My insecurity kicked in, and I turned my gaze to Rose as a delicate shade of pink rose on my cheeks.

Rose had gone to finishing school with me. We'd been the only two girls there who had never spoken of how important it was to us that we find an attractive, rich husband. We were quiet in a frigid way that made most of the girls talk badly about us behind our backs. We were teased, I suppose, but our demeanors didn't allow much room for us to take offense to such petty things. Although we were two of a kind, we never became close friends. It was more like allies.

She'd always been the prettiest girl there, but she'd changed quickly to stunning once she'd turned fourteen. Her flaming red curls were held against her head tightly with a comb shaped like a butterfly, and her blue eyes popped vividly from her pale complexion. I noticed that she still had a certain disdain about her, and it satisfied me, strangely enough. I figured that we may be able to continue our allied status on this voyage.

"I hope we'll be seeing you at lunch," Rose said, adopting the same tone I had spoken in. I could also hear the mocking way in which she used it, even if her mother could not. "It would be most splendid. I could introduce you to my fiancé, Caledon Hockley."

I nodded respectfully. I knew of her engagement to the man thirteen years her senior, and couldn't help but feel the sympathy owed to her now that I had not paid her before. I understood what it was like to not want anything to do with the man that you were about to enter a lifetime commitment with.

"I would be delighted," I replied, a small amused smile crossing my face. "We could even discuss my fiancé, Carlton Weston. I am oh so ecstatic about our union."

Rose bit her lip behind her mother's back as she tried not to giggle. I quickly turned my attention to her mother, so I wouldn't do the same. "It was so nice to see the both of you, but I must hurry and return to my room. I have so much to do before lunch."

"Ah, yes, us as well," Ruth said pompously. "We shall see you at lunch then."

They both walked away, and I strolled the rest of the way to my room, locked myself in, and escaped within the pages of my latest book while I waited for lunch to be announced. I'd only read about a chapter before I became bored. I was restless, and I assumed it had something to do with wanting to do something before I was shackled with the Weston name. I glanced out my window, and saw the sun shining in. It was a nice temperature outside, so I decided a quick walk would do me good; fresh air to clear my head before I was forced to dumb myself down in a crowd full of men.

I changed my outfit, as was expected for lunch, as I was intending to head straight from my walk to lunch. I shed my outer layer, leaving my corset be, and replaced it with a sage green dress with gray lace trim that made my eyes stand out. Rebecca laced the back for me, and I set off through the hallways of the gigantic ship.

I found out quickly that I had forgotten my way onto the deck, and was taking entirely too many twists and turns through the corridors in the ship. As I walked, things seemed to become shabbier and shabbier, and when I caught sight of a little boy wearing torn pants and a dirty shirt, I knew I'd strayed into the low class portion of the ship. My eyes darted around, hoping no one would spot me here. I would be reprimanded vehemently for being anywhere near here.

I took another turn, and into a crowded hallway where many of the third class passengers were adjusting themselves into their cabins. Many different languages were spoken by all sorts of voices, but I didn't stop to pay attention to what they were saying, I just had to get out of here.

I instantly noticed a stark difference between first class and third class: if a third class passenger had taken a stroll down our corridor, they would have been identified and thrown out immediately. Down here, they didn't seem to think me as out of place at all, and when I was acknowledged, it was only with a smile, nod of the head, or tip of a hat. They weren't hostile…more like jolly.

I noticed a woman by herself at the end of the hallway, and decided she looked friendly enough for me to ask her directions.

"Excuse me, madam," I said, "could you by any chance tell me which way the deck is?"

She blinked, and then began to speak so fast that I had no idea what she was saying. After a few seconds of listening closely, I recognized the language she was speaking as Greek, but had absolutely no idea what she was saying. I'd heard my father speak it before, but couldn't understand a word of it myself.

She stopped, and I tried again, waving my arms to indicate what I wanted. "Could you…tell me…where I…can find the deck?"

She began to speak again, but without indicating what she was saying. Her arms stayed at her sides, and her eyes on me. I sighed sadly, and was trying to decide on a next move when I heard a voice behind me.

"Havin' some trouble, ma'am?"

I whirled around and came face to chest with someone. I took a step to the side, and looked up. A strange feeling shocked through my chest when I saw him, almost like when you almost fall, but catch yourself in time. His hair was curly in the extreme, tousled messily, and a very light shade of brown. He had a strong jaw line, and his lips were curved up in a charming smile. His nose was perfectly straight, and it looked like he'd gone a couple days without shaving. But what really caught my attention were his eyes: they were hazel, but so open and light-hearted that I felt like I could tell everything I needed to know about him just by looking into them. I had never seen a more attractive man in my life, and I knew that I wanted to get to know him explicitly…until my eyes traveled down.

He was dressed in a pair of shabby brown pants, a rumpled white shirt under a dark brown vest, and a battered coat. There were what appeared to be dirt stains on every article of clothing he was wearing, including his scuffed shoes. I felt like a theatre-enthusiast who had been dying to see a play, but glimpsed a program and taken in its vulgar reality. I pursed my lips in annoyance.

"Could you tell me which way to get to the deck?" I asked, forgetting my polite and quiet voice in my irritation. How could a third class man be so…gorgeous?

"I could show ya if ya like," he said, adjusting his tattered coat.

My immediate reaction was to say no and find someone else to direct me, but a part of me that I didn't even know existed rose up, and screamed at me. I knew what I had to do.

"That would be delightful, thank you so much," I said, although without smiling, and a harsher tone than I would have used with anyone from my part of the ship.

He grinned, and held out his arm for me to walk ahead of him in the direction I'd just come from. I kept my chin up, my back straight, and stared straight ahead as I lead the way. I could somehow sense that he was behind me, rather than hearing or seeing him. I wasn't sure whether or not I liked this new feeling.

"I'm Tommy Ryan, by the way," he said, appearing at my right shoulder with his hand held out. I noticed that he had an Irish accent, and I had an urge to giggle. Thankfully, I repressed it.

"Evelyn Ismay, pleased to make your acquaintance," I replied, taking his hand. It was so big that it nearly encased mine completely, and it was rough and calloused. I normally would have been rather disgusted by the state of it, but I wasn't this time. I felt a pang when he released it.

"Ismay?" he asked interestedly. "As in Bruce Ismay?"

I nodded. "I'm his daughter."

He whistled. "Didn't think I was getting the privilege of rescuin' this ship's princess from the peasants."

I rolled my eyes. "I'm hardly a princess," I said scathingly. "More like a captive," I added lowly.

I noticed his eyebrows arch slightly, but he didn't comment. We took a few turns in silence. I had a myriad of things in my head that I wanted to say to keep conversation going, but my pride prevented me from saying any of them. I had been taught for years that people like this man were beneath me, and I shouldn't associate with them. There was just something about this certain man…something different that made me want to know him despite his social status.

There was a door up ahead, and we walked straight up to it. He grabbed the handle, and it opened onto the lower deck, for the second and third class. Children ran by, playing with a ball that one of them had brought. Their mothers looked on, laughing and talking jovially. Couples walked hand in hand, and I saw a boy and girl around my age sneak a kiss. It was a noticeable difference from the first class, where the mothers would talk quietly, judging other people that walked by; the boys would stand with their fathers and try to understand business talk, the girls would sit together and practice etiquette or do exactly what their mothers did, the couples would walk arm in arm, and could never be caught kissing in public. It was unwelcoming, but it was how I'd grown up. I could never act like these people did; my finishing school training would never allow it.

"The stairs to yer deck will be right up here," Tommy Ryan told me, taking the lead across the deck. I followed after a second, remembering my old teacher Ms. Dean telling me that I should never outright watch people when I walked by them because it was rude. What they didn't teach you was how to peer sneakily from the corners of your eyes. I learned that from watching my mother.

As I walked I thought of lessons from my schooling days that I would give to each of the people walking by…never touch a man who you are not related to or being courted by…eat only when sitting down at a table for meals…wear shoes at all times in public…don't run…back straight…

"Here we are," the voice broke me from my thoughts. My eyes flitted back to Tommy, and I realized we were standing in front of a set of stairs that lead to a deck where I could just see extravagant hats passing by. That could only mean first class. I returned my gaze to Tommy.

"Thank you, Mr. Ryan, for escorting me here," I said formally, dipping my chin slightly.

"Call me Tommy," he said simply. He was scrutinizing my face, and I blushed. "Ya have the most unusual eyes."

"Is that a bad thing?" I asked haughtily, trying to cover up my blush.

He must have seen through my façade, because he was smiling. "No. I would say it's a good thing…a rather pretty thing."

I failed at hiding my flattered smile. It wasn't often that I was actually complimented on the color of my eyes, and I decided to bask in it. "Why thank you…Tommy."

He didn't say anything, just continued to look at my eye. I had a sudden memory of my mother speaking to one of her aristocrat friends. They were talking about a daughter of one of their peers who had recently run away with a steel worker. I recalled my mother saying that those men only cared about one thing, and their trailing eyes gave away what it was. I didn't know what she meant then, but I do now. Tommy's eyes weren't 'trailing' though…they hadn't left my face.

"I should go," I said suddenly, holding out my hand. "It was a pleasure."

He took my gloved hand, but didn't shake it. He raised it to his lips, and kissed the back of it quickly. "It wasn't a problem," he replied. "Maybe I'll see ya 'round."

He was walking away before I could tell him that that was very unlikely. Part of me was glad that he had turned away so quickly. I didn't want him to see the beaming smile on my face that wouldn't go away since he'd kissed my hand.

**All I ask is for two reviews until the next chapter is posted. :) I don't think that's much.**

**Thank you so much for reading!  
**


	2. Put An End to All This Madness

**Wow, that didn't take long! Ha! Yay. :D**

**I forgot to put some things in the last author's note because I was too excited, haha. Anyway, the titles of the chapters are song lyrics, and at the end of the story, I'm going to post a sort of 'soundtrack' chapter with every song in it, and a few that I think really go with the story.**

**But anyway, the Tumblr is up, so if you guys wanna see it, feel free! The song for the last chapter was "Somewhere I Belong" by Linkin Park, and this one is "Running From Lions" by All Time Low.**

**I own nothing except the twist to the plot. The lyrics to the songs belong to their respectful writers and performers, and the plot itself belongs to James Cameron.  
**

**Hope you guys enjoy. :)  
**

_Put An End to All This Madness_

I made sure that no one noticed me when I appeared from the lower decks, and walked hurriedly to the dining room for lunch. I arrived about two minutes late, and my father gave me a look of extreme irritation. The men at the table (my father, Mr. Andrews, and a man I didn't recognize) all rose when I appeared and my father pulled my chair out for me.

"I do apologize," I said earnestly. "I lost track of time while exploring the boat deck."

"Understandable," Mr. Andrews said with a smile as we all took our seats again.

Sitting at the table with my father and I were the Dewitt-Bukaters, the man who I assumed was Caledon Hockley (Rose's fiancé), Mr. Andrews, and a jolly looking woman who I didn't know.

"Evelyn," my father said, "I believe you know Mrs. Dewitt-Bukater, her daughter Rose, and Mr. Andrews. This is Cal Hockley, Rose's fiancé, and Molly Brown, another fine woman joining us in the first class. Might I introduce my daughter, Evelyn?"

I shook hands daintily with Hockley, who seemed even more self-centered than my father, and Molly Brown, who was sitting on my left and struck me as different than the rest of the women on this ship. I think it might have been the genuine smile she was bearing.

"Nice to meet ya, darlin'," Mrs. Brown said heartily.

"You as well," I replied.

"As I was saying," Cal continued, but I blocked out the talk as I waited to order. I knew it would be something boring about business that I didn't care about, or an 'amusing' anecdote about how being rich made you the king of everything. I noticed that Rose was looking at whoever was talking too, but she had a glazed look about her eyes that I knew meant that she was doing exactly as I was. Eventually talk turned to the production of the ship, and I really listened for once.

"She is the largest moving object ever made by the hands of man in all history," my father boasted proudly, "and our master ship-builder, Mr. Andrews here, designed her from the keel plates up."

To my surprise, Mr. Andrews seemed modest as he said, "Well, I may have knocked her together, but the idea was Mr. Ismay's. He envisioned a steamer so grand in scale and so luxurious in its appointments that its supremacy would never be challenged."

I wished to tell them that my father really was just jealous because his competition made a ship bigger than him months before, but kept my lips sealed.

"And here she is," he continued, slapping the tabletop twice with his hand, "willed into solid reality."

There was a series of an attempt at modest chuckles from my father.

The waiter came around, and started to take our orders. I gave the waiter my order, but kept my eyes on Rose. She was lighting a cigarette at the table, which faintly surprised me. I never took her as the type. I had never smoked myself, as my parents deeply disapproved of women smoking.

Her mother leaned forward, and whispered to her, "You know I don't like that, Rose."

Rose turned to her contemptuously, and blew the smoke in her face. I grinned secretively. She looked at her mother with a 'what-are-you-going-to-do-about-that' sort of look until her fiancé took her cigarette from her, and snubbed it out.

"She knows," he said to Mrs. Dewitt-Bukater. Molly Brown looked at him like she couldn't believe what he'd just done. He turned to the waiter, and said, "We'll both have the lamb, rare, with very little mint sauce."

Rose looked defeated somehow, and I suddenly saw myself sitting in her seat and Carlton Weston sitting in Cal's, ordering me food that I didn't like without asking me and taking my cigarette. The vision left a sour taste in my mouth.

Suddenly Cal turned to Rose and said, "You like lamb, right, Sweet Pea?"

I snorted loudly at the nickname, and all eyes turned to me. I coughed daintily with embarrassment. "Sorry. I do believe I may have a small cold."

Cal looked at me with slight disdain, but turned his irritated look onto Molly Brown when she chuckled, "You gonna cut her meat for her too there, Cal?"

She ignored Cal's look, and said, "Hey, who thought of the name Titanic? Was it you, Bruce?"

"Yes, actually," he replied, smiling. "I wanted to convey sheer size, and size means stability, luxury, and above all: strength."

There was a slight pause, and then Rose spoke up. "Do you know of Dr. Freud, Mr. Ismay?" she asked pleasantly. I knew my father did not. He had little time for "frivolous" things like reading. I, however, did know of him, and was certain I knew where this was going before she finished. "His ideas about the male preoccupation with size might be of particular interest to you."

Molly Brown nodded approvingly, with a smile slowly forming on her face. Mr. Andrews shook silently with repressed laughter, and I pretended to wipe my mouth with my napkin to hide my grin from my rather disgruntled looking father.

"What's gotten into you?" Mrs. Dewitt-Bukater asked her daughter in a scolding voice. Rose just set down her napkin, excused herself, and left the table. My father was about an inch out of his seat when he realized that he didn't want to get out of his seat respectfully for a woman who had just accused him of "size preoccupation". He sat back down instantly.

"I do apologize," said Mrs. Dewitt-Bukater to my father.

"She's a pistol, Cal," Mrs. Brown cut in. "Hope you can handle her."

"Well, I may have to start minding what she reads from now on, won't I, Mrs. Brown?" he replied with malice.

"Freud," my father said gruffly, "who is he? A passenger?" He was blinking a lot, like he did when he was embarrassed.

"He's a neurologist," I answered. "He has many ideas about the human psyche, and publishes them."

"Hm," my father said disinterestedly. "I didn't know you read such things, Evelyn."

"Oh, there's plenty you don't know about me, _father_," I responded with fake pleasantness, stressing the last word.

He looked at me like he'd really love to slap me like my mother did after I told her I refused to marry Weston. I knew I would be in trouble later, but the victory I felt now made it worth it.

"Excuse me, but I must go locate my fiancé," Cal said angrily, walking away before anyone could reply. I'd never seen Ruth look so livid.

The rest of lunch passed without event. Rose and Cal returned after a short amount of time, and Rose apologized politely. My father accepted, of course, as was expected from a gentleman. Congratulations was offered on my engagement, and I just smiled and thanked them even though I wanted to jump up and scream that I hated him and it was all being forced on me without any warning.

"Well, I am full," Rose said after everyone else had finished eating. "Evelyn, would you like to accompany me for a walk?"

"I would be delighted," I replied honestly. "Is that alright, father?"

"Of course, of course," he said. "Try not to get lost this time around."

Everyone chuckled as I just stood up, and walked side by side with Rose to the boat deck.

The second we were out of sight of the dining room, Rose lit a cigarette. "It is such a relief to get away from such stuffy company," she said.

"I agree," I replied instantly. "Have you ever met more self-righteous people? I wish I had the courage to insult one, and leave the table though."

She laughed airily, and I noticed many of the men on the ship eying her covetously. "It is not courage, more like foolishness. Cal won't let me forget this soon."

It was quiet for awhile. Rose finished her cigarette while we walked, and tossed it overboard. She looked like she was lost in thought, and I wasn't sure if I should ask her the question that was on my tongue. Curiosity won out, and I asked lightly, "So…how do you and Cal get along?"

She hesitated, and finally stopped at the railing of the deck. We both looked out at the setting sun, and I just thought she wasn't going to answer. She finally responded, "Well."

I looked at her face, and said sympathetically, "But not well enough, right?"

She smiled humorlessly. "You're perceptive, Evelyn. I'm going to take a wild guess, and say that it's the same with you."

I grimaced. "Wrong. I actually loathe him more than anyone I've ever met."

She laughed wryly. "I would say we're in the same boat, but I'm not being forced to walk down the aisle the second we reach shore."

I scowled at the truth in her words. At least she and Cal were civil.

"All I'm certain of is that if this is my last bout of freedom, I'm going to enjoy it," I told her fiercely. I had said the words before thinking of them, but once they were out I didn't remember ever considering the idea. But now that it had been said, it seemed like one of the best ideas I'd ever come up with. I was going to relish in my final hours, and do what I wanted. There wasn't really much I could do on a ship, but I was going to make the most of my surroundings.

"I hope you succeed," Rose sighed. "It would be a small triumph for those of us who feel trapped."

I nodded solemnly. I might not be able to run away on a boat or find many places I wasn't allowed to be, but I could disobey rules. I could throw away my finishing school training, and do what I wanted. It was a testament to how unexciting my life had been that I got a thrill just from thinking about it.

Rose and I talked merrily of how little we liked almost everyone on ship for another hour. We parted below deck, and I headed to my room. Rebecca had unpacked everything, and was busily dusting every surface she could reach. She bowed slightly when I entered, and then busied herself with straightening the cushions on the sofa. I walked back into my room to pick an outfit for dinner. I pulled out a light gold dress, and laid it out on the bed. I set a pair of high heels next to it, and picked out some jewelry to match.

I heard my cabin door open, and I turned around just as my father appeared in my doorway of my bedroom. He was staring at me coldly, and I knew that this must be about my comment at dinner.

"You are the only one of my children," he started out, speaking through his teeth, "that I constantly have to reprimand. What is wrong with you that you must always make me ashamed of you?"

"I assure you the question is not what is wrong with me, but rather why you constantly force me to do things that you very well know I don't want to do," I responded. "Why did you make me go to finishing school in England when I specifically asked you to send me to America or Ireland? Why do you send me to associate with girls that I have expressed distaste for many times? And _why_ am I engaged to Carlton Weston, who has as much brains as a mentally challenged goldfish?"

I had started out quiet, but ended yelling. The astonishment on his face satisfied me, and I knew my plan of doing what I wanted while on the Titanic had taken effect.

"You insolent child!" he growled. "I sent you to the best schools, made sure you were friends with all the right people, and ensured you would have the most wealthy husband in all of America, and you repay me like this? You say I make you do things you do not wish to do? Well, how about I simply let you do what you want? You can find yourself a husband. Without my approval the most you'll end up is a poor lumberyard worker's wife, working as a seamstress!"

"I'd rather be a poor seamstress than be Mrs. Evelyn Weston!" I roared back. "In fact, I'd rather be a third class lumberyard worker's daughter than yours!"

He took four wide steps towards me, and grabbed me hard by my bicep. For a second, I was afraid. His eyes were burning with hatred, and I felt a twinge on my cheek like when my mother had hit me, as if reminding me what I was about to receive. But he didn't hit me. He just glowered, like he couldn't think of a punishment horrible enough for me. We stared into each other's eyes, dark brown and yellow clashing like swords.

"The only reason," he whispered dangerously, "that I am not disowning you now is because you are easily the most beautiful of my children. You have the best chance of becoming successful."

"Being successful is not hanging on the arm of a thriving businessman, _Bruce_," I hissed loathingly. "I'll make my own success, and I don't need you to do it."

His face was centimeters from mine, and his mustache quivered when he spoke. "You will marry Weston when we arrive in New York. There is no arguing the point. If you run, society will ostracize you. Don't think I'm above ruining my own child. A false story may slip from my lips…perhaps your virtue is under question…" He smiled, and it was so scummy that I nearly saw red.

"That's a lie!" I shrieked, trying to wrench my arm from his grip. He held on tighter, and I felt my circulation being cut off. It hurt terribly.

"Who do you think they will believe?" he asked evenly. "The man who owns the grandest line of ships in the world…or his runaway daughter?"

I knew he was right. No one would believe me. I felt so angry, but I couldn't do anything about it. My pathetic life flashed before my eyes, and I saw everything I hadn't done and could never do. I was doomed in my eyes, and angry tears flowed from them.

He let go with a triumphant grin, and left me to cry, just as my mother did. After about two minutes, Rebecca came in.

"Are you alright, Miss?" she spotted me curled up in an armchair with my face in my knees, shaking violently. "Oh, dear."

She came over, and rubbed my back soothingly. I turned, and cried on her shoulder. She was the only person in this world who had ever truly cared about me. My family used me to acquire position in the social order, and I had no true friends. I had no one. On this crowded ship, I had never felt more alone.

I must have cried for over an hour. Eventually Rebecca made me some tea, and it actually did calm me. Although nothing could change the lack of life I was feeling. I felt like a ghost that was drifting along with the living and unsure of exactly how I should act around them.

"You should change for dinner, miss," Rebecca said quietly. I stared at the ground awhile longer, but finally nodded absentmindedly.

Even though Rebecca kept up a constant string of reassurances and compliments while she did my hair and fixed my face, I barely paid her any mind. In front of my mirror, my eyes kept straying to the large, hand print-shaped bruise on my arm. Rebecca had commented that it was a good thing that I had picked out a long sleeved dress, but I wanted to run down the halls, shouting and pointing out my bruise to show every person I came across what a vial man Bruce Ismay was.

When I was fully dressed I made my own way to the dining hall. We sat a table with John Jacob Astor, his wife, Benjamin Guggenheim, and his mistress. I didn't do more than nod the whole meal. My arm was aching steadily, and I wasn't hungry. I merely pushed my food around my plate, and stared blankly at the opposite wall.

Something red caught my eye, and I saw Rose leaving her table. There was no one looking mortally offended this time, so I thought she must just be tired. I was as well, but I didn't want to give my father the satisfaction of seeing me leave early. So I sat there miserably and contemplated switching lives with Rebecca. It seemed like a wonderful idea at the moment.

About a half hour later, an officer swept into the dining hall. He looked around, spotted something, and took off at a near run through the maze of tables. He stopped at Mrs. Dewitt-Bukater's side, whispered something and almost everyone at her table jumped up and left the hall. Not many people noticed the commotion, but my father did.

He glanced at me suspiciously, and said, "Come along, Evelyn."

I got up without a word, and we intercepted the officer before he returned to the deck.

"What's going on?" my father asked him commandingly.

He looked at me, and his cheeks tinted pink. "At the stern…a man was trying to…Rose Dewitt-Bukater…he…"

"Lead us to them," my father demanded. The man opened the door, and we set off.

Even though he was stuttering over what he was saying, my father and I both got the gist. We walked close to a quick jog, following the young officer. At the stern of the ship was Cal, Ruth, the Master at Arms, several more officers, Cal's manservant Lovejoy, Colonel Gracie who'd been at dinner with the Dewitt-Bukaters, and a shabby man who was having cuffs forced on him. I didn't see Rose at first, but I finally noticed her, wrapped in a blanket on a bench. I ran up to her, and sat down next to her. She didn't seem that surprised to see me.

"Are you alright?" I asked her quickly. She nodded, but was more focused on what was going on with the men. My father was getting the story from the Master at Arms.

"Completely unacceptable!" Cal was ranting wildly. He got in the man's face and shouted, "What made you think that you could put your hands on _my _fiancé?"

The man looked him up and down for about a second until his eyes flitted to Rose and me, sitting on the bench silently.

"Look at me, you filth!" Cal bellowed, grabbing his collar violently.

"Cal!" Rose exclaimed. He ignored her.

"What do you think you were doing?" he continued.

"Well that's obvious, isn't it?" I piped up. Everyone turned to look at me. "Well, it is."

Cal shoved the man away from him, but he just looked generally confused, like he couldn't understand why he was arrested.

"Cal, stop!" Rose yelled, jumping up and going to him. He was about to continue his assault on the guy, but she yelled, "It was an accident!"

"A…an accident?" he asked patronizingly.

The arrested man looked more bewildered than ever.

"It was!" Rose said convincingly. I came to her side, my eyes darting between her, Cal, and the man accused of raping her. Cal glanced almost laughingly at the accused rapist, but Rose continued. "Stupid really," she smiled through the tears still on her face. "I was leaning over, and I slipped."

Everyone was staring at her like she was insane. She looked almost pleadingly at the man in handcuffs. "I was leaning far over to see the uhh…uhh, uhh…the uhh, uhh…" She moved her finger in a circular motion with her eyes shut as she tried to remember the name of what she was talking about.

"Propellers?" I supplied helpfully.

"Propellers!" she exclaimed with relief. "And I slipped, and I would've gone overboard, but Mr. Dawson, here, saved me."

I looked at Mr. Dawson. His confusion had fallen away, and he was looking at her like he was impressed, a near smile on his face. I immediately didn't believe her story.

"…and almost went over himself!" Rose was still saying.

There were a few seconds of silence, and then Cal said, "You wanted to see…she wanted to see the propellers!" He laughed almost nervously.

"Like I said," continued Colonel Gracie, "women and machinery do not mix."

I scowled at him, slightly offended. The Master at Arms whipped Mr. Dawson around to face him, and asked, "Was that the way of it?"

He glanced at Rose for a second. She gave him a pleading look, and I could have sworn I saw her mouth the word 'Please'.

"Yeah," he finally said. "Yeah, that was pretty much it."

"Well, the boy's a hero then!" Colonel Gracie spoke up again. "Good for you, son! Well done!"

My father seemed slightly flabbergasted. The Master at Arms glanced at him for approval, and he nodded after a second of hesitation. The handcuffs were taken off. Rose and Mr. Dawson exchanged a smile. I was dying to ask Rose what had actually happened.

"So it's all's well," Gracie said, clearly drunk, "and, uhh, back to our brandy, eh?" He laughed, and started to walk off. My father followed, with a relieved look and I knew he was having trouble comprehending that he'd just escaped some very shifty press stories about rape aboard his ship.

Cal put a hand on either side of Rose, and rubbed her arms through the blanket. "Look at you!" he said. "You must be freezing! Let's get you inside!" He turned her, and began to force her to walk away. I turned my gaze onto Mr. Dawson, watching him watch Rose.

"Perhaps a little something for the boy?" my father suggested. In normal circumstances, he would have been the first one to go back to his brandy, but I knew he was probably so happy he'd escaped that news story that he was feeling generous.

Cal at first seemed confused by the notion, but finally realized that he was under quiet scrutiny. He smiled, and turned to look at everyone. "Of course...Mr. Lovejoy," he said. Lovejoy turned to him. "I think a twenty should do it."

Rose laughed scathingly as Cal turned back around to her. "Is that the going rate for saving the woman you love?" she asked.

Cal's eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "Rose is displeased," he pointed out. "What to do…?" He pretended to think while Mr. Dawson put his coat and shoes back on. "I know," he said suddenly.

He approached Mr. Dawson, and said, "Perhaps you could join us for dinner tomorrow evening." He glanced behind him, as if for approval. "To regale our group…with your heroic tale."

The silence that followed his question was awkward. It was clear that Cal rather hoped he would say no and all eyes were on Mr. Dawson, who looked like he didn't exactly want to go.

"Sure, count me in," Mr. Dawson finally said boredly.

"Good," Cal said, smiling falsely. "That's settled then."

As they turned away, Cal whispered to my father, "This should be interesting." He snorted amusedly in reply.

Rose looked at him like she'd like to call him out on his comment, but she didn't. Her eyes, which were streaming with the makeup that had fallen because of her tears, landed on me with a silent question. I nodded, and turned to my father.

"I think I'll go back to Rose's room with her for awhile," I told him. "Just to make sure she's settled down."

"Yes…good idea," he said. He turned, and walked away to talk to the Master at Arms.

The walk back to Rose's room was silent. Cal and Ruth walked behind us. When we got to her door, Cal asked, "Will you be alright, darling?"

"Yes, I have Evelyn with me," she said, turning to smile at me. Her mother looked slightly distasteful, but said nothing before turning away with Cal to go to their own rooms.

Rose strode into the room, and I followed.

"Hold on just one minute," she said over her shoulder. She went into a room, and shut the door. Her room was extravagant and overdone, just like mine, except I think mine was a little bit more…unnecessary. But that was only because my father owned the company.

Rose came out about fifteen minutes later wearing a robe over her nightclothes. She told her maid to fix us tea, and then we sat in silence on one of the couches. I became quickly aware of the fact that she wasn't going to speak first, so I did.

"Rose…," I whispered, shifting my eyes around the room to make sure that no one was possibly listening, "I know that you didn't just slip. What…?"

I trailed off, and she sighed. She didn't look at me as she mumbled, "It felt like it was all happening at once. I'm seventeen, and I'm marrying a thirty year old man. It's like I'm screaming, but no one really hears me…so…I thought it might be best if I just gave up…"

I gasped, my hand flying to my mouth. She looked away guiltily. "Rose! You can't! No matter how…it can't be…," I took a deep breath, knowing that incoherency was going to get me nowhere. I took one of her hands in both of mine. "Rose, I understand. I'm stuck too. I was thrown into water too deep to stand, and no one asked me if I could swim. But here's the thing: if we can tread water as long as we have, I'm certain that it won't be long before we learn to swim with what we've been given. Giving up is not an option."

She sighed, nodding. "I realized that once I was standing on the other side of the railing, but…I probably wouldn't have been able to get back over without Jack Dawson."

"How did he come in?" I asked deviously. The look on her face was giving something away, but I couldn't quite figure out what that was.

"He saw me, and talked me down," she informed me. "He said that if I jumped, he would too, to attempt to save me. That was why his jacket and shoes were off. He was helping me back over when I slipped. He landed on top of me, so that is why it looked…" She didn't finish the sentence, but she blushed profusely.

"This Jack Dawson," I said slowly, "he's, uhh, rather cute, don't you think?"

Her eyes snapped onto me, and she took her hand back. "Does it matter?"

"I don't know Rose, you tell me," I replied slyly. She stood up, and turned her back on me.

"Even if he was…not unattractive, it would not matter. I'm engaged to Cal and he's steerage," she said firmly. "He could never be good enough for me."

It sounded like she was simply spewing out stuff that she'd been told, presumably by her mother. But as she said it, I suddenly thought of the man I'd met earlier, Tommy Ryan, and how I'd felt when he kissed my hand. He was steerage, but for a moment I'd felt like…maybe it didn't matter much to me.

"You don't know that," I said quietly. "Perhaps if there were a spark between you and someone who didn't have much money, it wouldn't matter much to you anymore. That person's heart might be good enough for you, even if their bank account is not."

She didn't say anything for awhile. Her servant brought the tea, and I drank all of mine almost immediately. Tommy Ryan's face was so clear in my mind that I was hoping to drown it at the bottom of my teacup.

Rose sat back down, and began to prepare her tea. She wasn't paying attention to what she was doing, and spilled tea all over the table.

"Evelyn," she said suddenly, taking a quick sip of tea, "if you value heart over money and even being engaged…forgive me, but it sounds almost like you've found yourself a third class man who you intend to runaway with."

I choked on my last sip of tea, and had to take a minute to collect myself. When I spoke, my eyes were still watering. "What would make you think that?" I gasped.

"You seem to hold a lot of opinion about the matter," she pointed out.

I swallowed painfully, and the face of the Irish man who brought me to the deck today appeared again. I wanted him out of my head, because I seemed to be unable to think clearly when he was in there. "No, there is no other man. I just, uhh, what with my new engagement, have thought of," I swallowed again, "many different ways of avoiding the whole situation."

"And you consider that to be one of them?" she asked skeptically, raising her teacup to her mouth.

"I didn't actually consider it, more as just thought it up," I said quickly.

I was surprised when she looked offended. "I told you _my _true story," she said. "Why won't you tell me yours?"

"Rose, there is no other man," I said honestly. "It's hard to think of anything besides matters of the heart when yours seems to have been sold as if at auction."

She nodded, but I could tell she didn't believe me. She was watching my face as if hoping it might break me and force me to spill a secret I didn't have. I began to feel uncomfortable, and stood up.

"I must be getting to my cabin," I said. "I don't want my father to worry."

"Oh, of course," she said, setting down her own and following me to the door. "I do hope I'll see you at breakfast."

"Yes, I hope we can sit together," I told her, smiling genuinely. "I enjoy talking with you."

"And I with you," she responded, returning the smile. "Goodnight, Evelyn."

"Goodnight." I heard her shut the door behind me as I walked to my own room.

When I got there, Rebecca was asleep on the sofa with a book in her arms and a cup of cold tea by her side. I guessed that she was waiting up for me, but fell asleep. I shook her shoulder, and she jumped up.

"What?" she yelled, startled. She saw me, and curtsied with, flushing. "Sorry, Miss. I didn't mean to fall asleep."

"It's quite alright, Rebecca," I sighed. "You can help me get this off, and get to bed."

"Yes, Miss," she replied, following me to my room.

She undid the long line of small buttons all the way down my back, and I stepped out of the garment. I heard her gasp, and turned around to see her gaping at my midsection with her hand over her mouth.

"Miss Evelyn!" she exclaimed in a scandalized whisper. "You're not wearing your corset!"

I grinned at her. I knew how much trouble I'd be in if I didn't. This was another one of my rebellion exercises. It's not like I actually needed it anyway. I was already thin, so that silly thing made me look sickly.

"No, I didn't," I said proudly. "It's redundant, uncomfortable, and makes it difficult to breathe."

"But-"

I cut her off quickly. "No, Rebecca. It's been done. I didn't wear it, and I won't anymore. Are you going to tell my father?" I widened my eyes to make them look more innocent, and she looked like she was having a fierce internal battle. Finally she closed her eyes, and I took it as a sign of defeat.

She turned away, and began to turn down my bed for me. I looked to the mirror, and took the first of the many pins out of my hair. Rebecca came up behind me, and started to help pull them out. My hair fell to my mid-back in sections. I looked into my own eyes in the mirror, and suddenly thought of a comment about them from earlier, said in a rough Irish accent.

"_Ya have the most unusual eyes."_

"_Is that a bad thing?"_

"_No. I would say it's a good thing…a rather pretty thing."_

I brought my hand up, and touched just under my eye with my fingertips. I supposed they were pretty, in an odd way…unusual, as he'd said.

"Rebecca?" I asked her as she collected the pins to put away. "What do you think of love?"

Rebecca fixed her stare on me, and smiled. She was only about thirty-five years old, but she was wise beyond her years. I often came to her for advice.

"Love is what's humanity's all about, isn't it?" she said simply. "What's life without it? If life were a field, it would be filled with flowers. There would be pretty ones for good emotions, happiness, accomplishment, hope, and there would be wilted ones for bad emotions, anger, hate, jealousy…but love…love would be the rarest and most beautiful of them all. If you managed to pick it, it would make the whole field seem brighter, but without it…you just get the minimum of joy life can give."

"But what if you fall in love with someone who's wrong for you?" I asked hesitantly. "What if that person can't give you anything except the reciprocated feelings?"

She looked guiltily at the door of my bedroom before leaning closer. "I don't know what this is about, Miss, and I ask that you don't tell me, but…if you fall in love with someone who…certain people don't approve of…well, I think that financial security is, um, not as wonderful as the best thing that life can bring...is it?"

I wasn't sure if it was rhetorical or not, but she kissed me quickly on the head and retreated from my room, shutting the door behind her.

I stood from the stool at the vanity, and climbed into bed. Rebecca must think that I'm in love with some unknown man now, which wasn't the case. I no longer had a chance at finding the "prettiest flower", as Rebecca had put it. The third class passengers didn't know it, but they got the better end of life. I'd gladly give up all my money and possessions if I could only be happy and have a family that actually valued more than my face or my ability to bring them more wealth.

That night I went to sleep with Rebecca's words ringing in my ears, and had dreams of open fields where I was forced to pick flowers blindfolded while a deep voice with an Irish accent guided me along, telling me to pick the brightest flower even though my father's voice shouted at me from a distance, telling me not to.

**Chapter two is DONE!**

**So I'm thinking three reviews until next chapter? :) I really want some constructive criticism. Let me know what I'm doing wrong so I can fix it!**

**Please and thank you. :D  
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	3. The Best Way to Compromise

**I'd like to thank my reviewers: x XRoweenaJAugustineX x, dEnIsE tHe StRaNgE, lilyp23, and neverforgetlove! I love you all!**

**dEnIsE tHe StRaNgE:**** LOL! "Slap the mustache off Bruce's face" made my day! xD Hahahahahaha.  
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**I finally got my three reviews, so here's chapter three! All of the feedback so far has been really positive so far! :)  
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**I would say I'm sorry for the late update, but it's not my fault. I only just got my third review today. I always put the next one up the second I get the amount of reviews I asked for, but all I get is tons of alerts and no reviews. So if not for me, review for you!**

**The song for this chapter is "Who Knows" by Avril Lavigne. And I forgot to say that the song for the title of the story is "Pretty You" by Dropout Year. :)**

**(E) (N) (J) (O) (Y) ! : D**

_The Best Way to Compromise_

The next day I woke early to prepare for breakfast. I washed, and had Rebecca help me lace up the back of the periwinkle blue dress I chose (she did so grudgingly, as I was once again not wearing a corset). Once it was on, I looked in the mirror. The short sleeves revealed the dark black and purple hand print bruise on my arm. It was too late to take off this dress and work my way into another one, so I chose a white scarf, and held it around my shoulders.

Breakfast went by uneventfully. Rose and I sat together, exchanging silent smiles or looks of contempt whenever one of the others said something particularly ridiculous. After it was over, my father stayed to "talk business" with Mr. Andrews, Cal, Mr. Guggenheim, Mr. Astor, and Sir Duff Gordon. He did, however, make me promise to meet him for lunch later.

The older women went to take a walk on the boat deck, and Rose lead me to the corridor outside.

"Will you come somewhere with me?" she asked hopefully.

"Sure," I said immediately, but quickly backtracked. "Where?"

"I want to go find Jack Dawson," she informed me. She shook her head vehemently when a devilish smile appeared on my face. "It isn't like that, Evelyn. I merely want to thank him again for saving my life, and for sticking with my story."

"Are you sure it isn't because you've been thinking about what I said?" I asked mischievously.

"No, it isn't," she answered firmly. "Now, come along. We'll look around on the deck, and ask some people if we have to."

We walked outside, and a man at the stairs on the deck looked at us strangely when we walked through the gate. He probably was not used to first class people descending onto the lower decks. We walked around the small deck, and didn't see him. There was a man up ahead with a tan complexion, black hair, and friendly smile on his face. He was with a pretty blonde girl who had her hair done up in braids on top of her head. They were both laughing, and seemed approachable.

"I think I saw that man with him the other day, on deck," Rose told me.

"Let's ask them, then," I suggested. Rose eyed them, and then nodded.

"Excuse me," I said, they both looked over interestedly. They seemed sort of confused when they noticed our expensive-looking clothing. "I'm sorry to interrupt. I was just wondering if you might know a man by the name of Jack Dawson."

The man adjusted his beret, and spoke in a think Italian accent, "Yes, I know him. Why do you ask?"

"I have to speak with him," Rose spoke up. "It's rather important."

The man didn't seem to find any harm in this, and whispered something to the girl on his arm. She nodded, and he pulled away from her. "He should be in our cabin. I take you. This way."

We followed him into the bowels of the ship where the steerage rooms were, and I experienced the same feeling of frigid difference to the first class as I had yesterday. Everyone smiled at us, despite race, gender, or age. Rose seemed slightly uncomfortable, but I felt more relaxed here than I did with my father's people.

"I'm Fabrizio, by the way," the Italian man said suddenly, grinning over his shoulder.

"Rose Dewitt-Bukater," Rose introduced herself, quickly shaking his hand.

"Evelyn Ismay," I said, shaking his hand as well.

He stopped so fast that I almost rammed into him. "This is it." He pushed the door to a room open. "Jack, there are girls here to see you."

"What? Who?" asked a confused voice. Someone pushed past Fabrizio, and Jack Dawson's face appeared in the doorway. He looked blown away when he saw us. He crossed his arms, and leaned against the doorway.

"Mr. Dawson," Rose said formally, "I don't believe we were properly introduced last night-"

"Last night?" Fabrizio asked suggestively. Rose blushed, but Jack just laughed, shoving him playfully.

"Shut up," he said as the Italian man giggled like a child. "Go play with Helga." Fabrizio laughed, nodded at us as, and walked back the way he'd brought us in. "Anyway, you were saying?"

She looked flustered, but said, "I'm Rose Dewitt-Bukater," she glanced at me, "and this is my friend Evelyn Ismay. I was hoping we might be able to…take a walk?"

He nodded slowly, like it was taking him a minute to process what she said. "Oh, sure, yeah…yeah! Hold on one second." He disappeared into the room, coming back only seconds later with a small brown folder under his arm. "Lead the way."

Rose turned, and somehow remembered each turn to get us out of the ship. "There's more room to walk on our deck, if you don't mind," she said to Jack.

"Not at all," he said, gesturing for her to go onward.

We were about ten feet away from the steps when someone called Jack's name. All three of us turned, but my heart jolted like I'd been electrocuted when I saw Tommy Ryan jogging toward us.

"Tonight, after dinner," he said to Jack, "there's goin' ta be a-"

He stopped short when he saw Rose. He looked at her clothes, and his forehead wrinkled in thought. His eyes flitted to me, away, and then back again with shock on his features.

"Evelyn!" he said, surprised. Suddenly he smirked. "Lost again, are ya?"

I shook my head, blushing scarlet from the combined effects of Jack and Rose's questioning stares, Tommy's attractive smirk, and the realization that the voice in my dream had been his. "No. Jack, Rose, and I are going to take a walk."

"Are you, now?" he asked, looking at Jack, and then back at me. "Well then, would ya mind if I joined ya?"

My mind fumbled for an excuse, but Rose spoke before I did. "No, she wouldn't!" My eyes landed on Rose, wide and pleading, but she was smiling knowingly at me. "She'd be delighted, wouldn't you, Evelyn?"

I hesitated and then said, "Yes, I suppose I would."

"Shall we go, Jack?" Rose said quickly. She took his arm, and almost ran away, leaving Tommy and I standing there. I was struck dumb. She'd asked me to come down here to talk to Jack, and then deserted me with this Irishman who made my head swim.

Tommy looked slightly confused after them, but didn't comment. "So…ya know there's not much room to walk, right?"

"Well, we could go to my part…if you like," I added as an afterthought.

"Go on, then," he said, stepping back so I could lead. I walked up the stairs to his deck. The man guarding it glowered at Tommy, but I told him he was a guest of mine. Tommy didn't seem to have noticed the angry look he received. The second we were in view of more people, he received about a hundred more of the same disdainful look.

"The people 'round here aren't the friendliest, are they?" he asked happily as a woman walking by actually sneered at him.

"You get used to it," I responded. "But they still find things about you that they can dissect, even if you're a member of their little club. That woman," I pointed discreetly to a pretty girl with raven hair and pale skin whose name was Amelia Montero, "dissolved into tears at a gala once because she overheard some of the other women talking about how large she is."

Tommy looked slightly astonished. "But she isn't," he pointed out.

"I know, but they needed something about a pretty girl to pick at, didn't they?"

He looked me over, and said, "What about you could they possibly tease?"

My answer would have been the color of my eyes, but I remembered the comment he made about them and blushed. "I'm not sure, and I don't want to know."

"I understand," he said, nodding.

We slipped into a conversation about our backgrounds, and I found him extraordinarily easy to talk to. He was funny, witty, and surprisingly articulate. My siblings had always made his sort out to be incredibly stupid, but he seemed to be well-educated for a poor man. He even kept a respectful distance from me; my mother would have been thunderstruck.

I actually felt more comfortable talking to him than I did with anyone else, in all of my nineteen years. It was like I'd known him all my life, and not realized it. Every time he laughed it was so familiar, and I couldn't stop staring at him. I hoped he felt the same way, because I could sense him looking at me whenever I wasn't looking at him.

"So, Tommy," I said conversationally, after nearly three hours of us walking and talking, "what brings you to America?"

"Well," he began, "me parents died awhile back, and I've been savin' up ever since in order to move. I was plannin' on just goin' to Dublin, but a friend o' mine came back with stories from 'the Land of Opportunities'. I decided that I would have a better chance o' gettin' work if I went there. So, here I am."

"Hmm…and is there no girl in that little picture of your life?" I wasn't sure why I asked it, but suddenly it was out of my mouth, and I was embarrassed beyond belief.

He chuckled. "Not now," he answered honestly, "but one day, there will be. I promised me mother I'd settle down one day back when she was sick. But that won't be for just any girl," he glanced up at the sky, "Goin' ta make me mother proud, and make sure she's a good one."

I laughed lightly, but suddenly felt nervous. I wonder if his mother would have considered me a good one. But when I realized what I was thinking, I quickly tried to divert my thoughts.

"So what about ya?" he asked. "Why are ya goin' ta America?"

"Well," I said hesitantly, "it is a bit complicated."

"We've got time," he pointed out.

I sighed, just walking in silence for a minute. "I suppose I've always wanted to live in America, ever since I first visited there. I've only been able to make a few trips, when one of my father's ships sails there I always go along. He told me that he was bringing me along for my birthday present…but it turns out that he was really just trapping me."

"What d'ya mean, 'trapping'?" he asked curiously.

"He arranged a marriage," I growled unintentionally, "to a vulgar man named Carlton Weston. I have made my nothing less than loathing feelings about him known, but my family has never expressed a particular interest in paying attention to my wishes."

"Ah," he said slowly, and I looked at him. He was staring at the ground now, as if crestfallen. "Yer betrothed, then?"

I nodded. "I am." I hoisted up the scarf I was wearing over my shoulders, trying to shield myself against the cold. "I always thought that when I finally got the chance to spend my life in America, it would be the happiest time of my life. Somehow it's ended up being the worst…"

A thoughtful silence fell. I played over a scenario in my head where I was moving of my own accord, and Carlton Weston wasn't in the picture. Would I be walking with this man right now? If I wasn't, where would I be? If I was, would it be different? Would I find it easier or harder to accept the fact that my stomach clenches whenever he looks at me, even if I don't actually see his eyes on me?

"Maybe it will all change in yer favor," he suggested optimistically.

I rolled my eyes. "How, exactly, would that go?"

"The secret is," he said simply before ducking down so that his lips were right next to my ear, and whispering, "ta make yer own choices, instead of listenin' ta what everyone else tells ya."

He stood back up straight, and walked slightly ahead of me, politely ignoring the fact that I was near hyperventilation from his close proximity a few seconds ago. It was a sort of cheap thrill, but I rather liked it.

I caught up with him, and said, "But you make it sound so simple!" I exclaimed exasperatedly. "I was raised to _not _make my own choices. I went to finishing school! They basically prepare you to let a man do everything while you sit back and look pretty."

"Ya don' have much confidence in yerself, d'ya?" he asked blatantly.

"That's…absurd! What sort of question is that?"

He chuckled. "If ya did, ya wouldn't even question all of this…ya would just do it for yerself. When ya imagined yerself comin' ta America, what did ya picture yerself doin'?"

I was about to tell him I had no idea, even though I knew I did. I wanted to live on my own, make my own living being a writer, and not get married unless I really fell in love. "I wanted to be a writer so I could make my own money," I told him honestly.

"Why can't ya still do that?"

"Because life tends to change when you get engaged."

"Ah, but ya didn't get engaged, ya were betrothed to someone against yer will. Let me tell ya somethin': yer the only one who can ever really give ya exactly what ya want. Yer parents can't, a husband couldn't…only you. Ya know what ya want, and if ya don't know how ta get it, ya can find out how. I didn't know how ta work in a lumberyard or raise meself when I was sixteen, but I did it. And I know that ya could do whatever ya wanted ta if ya would try it for yerself."

"But how do you know that?" I asked quietly, staring pleadingly at his face for answer.

He smiled faintly. "When I look at ya, I see an educated, beautiful, headstrong girl who could do anything she sets her mind ta."

I blushed, and looked away. The wind out here was rather strong, and a piece of my hair blew into my eyes when I did so. Before I could raise my hand even an inch to replace it, Tommy had reached over and did so, turning my face back to look at him as he did so.

"Ya always turn away when yer embarrassed," he chuckled.

I smiled, biting my lip so he hopefully wouldn't see it. I glanced away again, and stopped smiling immediately when I noticed a group of women nearby eying us from underneath their large hats and whispering to each other. I took a step back, out of reach of his hand. It fell back to his side.

"It's getting late. My father told me I had to meet him for lunch with some others," I told him.

Tommy lit a cigarette while I spoke, and didn't speak until he'd taken a long drag. "I think this just might be yer test."

"My test?" I asked stupidly.

He nodded. "The test of a lifetime: whether or not yer going to let them and their rules dictate yer life. This is it, Evie, the turning point of yer life."

I ignored the new nickname he'd just sprung on me, and contemplated it. He was right. This really was a turning point in my life. Not like he meant it, of course, as in this specific moment, but this whole trip was when everything would change. I could feel it overwhelmingly. I thought of my father's threat of having me ostracized from society, but I thought of Tommy's belief in me and telling me to have faith in myself.

"I don't think I can decide all of that right now," I decided slowly, "but I can decide one thing: I'm not going to lunch with him."

Tommy blinked a couple times, but all of a sudden started clapping and cheering. A few people looked over, startled, but Tommy didn't notice or care. I glanced around, mortified. I grabbed his hands, and pinned them between mine.

"What are you doing?" I hissed.

"Celebrating yer first step towards yer own life," he answered brightly.

When we both didn't speak, I became hyperaware of just how close we were. When I'd grabbed his hands, I'd taken several steps much closer to him. I still held his hands between us, and our faces were only about a foot apart. I let go, and took several steps away. He leaned lazily against the railing, and went back to smoking his cigarette, which was now rather crooked from me grabbing his hands.

I eyed it speculatively, and then held out my hand.

"What?" he asked.

"Let me try that," I commanded, nodding at his cigarette.

He glanced at it, and then smirked. "Ya sure?" he asked. When I nodded, he handed it over.

I put it in my mouth, and inhaled. I instantly fell into a coughing fit, nearly unable to breathe. Tommy took it back, and hit my back gently as he flicked it overboard.

"Sorry," he said. "I probably should have warned ya that might happen…probably shouldn't have given it to ya at all."

"Oh, Mister…Make-Your-Own-…Choices…was going to…deny me one of mine," I gasped, between coughs.

He laughed, and continued to hit my back until I stopped coughing.

"That was horrible," I croaked, rubbing my throat.

"Yeah, but yer lucky," he said. I looked at him like he was crazy. "I meant because most people throw up their first time. I did."

"Yeah, lucky," I said sarcastically. He laughed.

For awhile I just stood next to the railing, massaging my throat and trying to fight off the urge to touch him again, like when I'd grabbed his hands. It made my chest do this strange feeling, like a somersault. Every time I was around him I experienced some sort of new, odd feeling.

"Hey, tonight after dinner there's goin' ta be a party down in me part of the ship," he said nonchalantly. "I was hopin' ya might go with me."

"And why were you hoping that?" I asked, resting my chin on my right hand, and turning my head to flutter my eyelashes at him. It was one of the flirting techniques we'd learned in finishing school. I'd never tried them out before, and I figured that now was as good a time as any.

He glanced at me, and quickly away, his cheeks reddening. "Well, it would be another milestone towards getting out…and I'm a pretty fantastic dancer so ya could benefit from that too."

I laughed girlishly, and could have kicked myself after I did. I sounded too high-pitched. "I suppose I could," I admitted. "But I have two conditions."

"What might those be?"

I held up one finger, "One: you dance with only me," I held up another finger, "and two, you come to dinner with me in my part of the ship tonight."

He immediately looked wary. "I don't know about that. I don't think the people ya eat with would feel very friendly towards me. They might not even let me in."

"I'll be there," I assured him, "so they won't be outright rude. Jack's going to be there too because Rose's fiancé invited him, and they'll let you in because you're my guest."

He sighed, and ran a hand through his already messy hair. "What am I supposed ta wear?" he asked grudgingly.

The horn went off to announce dinner, and I grinned. "I know exactly where to go."

**I ask, once again, for three reviews. :)**

**It's the only thing that gets you the next chapter!**


	4. Complacency Is Something I Can't Shake

**WOWOWOW! This is a new record: it took less than twenty four hours to get the reviews! My mind is blown! Thanks guys! :D I feel loved.**

**Anyway, someone said it was too Jack/Rose, and I'm trying to fix that. This one, I'm afraid might be a little over Jack/Rose, but it was too late to change the plot of it because the last chapter already said what was going to happen. But it'll change by the next one! I absolutely promise! I hope that the certain reviewer who said that doesn't stop reading this! D: **

**Anyway, the song for this chapter is "Be My Escape" by Relient K. Great band. :)**

**On a completely non-related side note...I make kickass brownies.**

**Carry on.  
**

_Complacency Is Something I Can't Shake_

"Mrs. Brown!" I called, knocking on her door. "I have a bit of an emergency!"

The door opened, and Molly Brown poked her head out of the door. "What's wrong, darlin'?" she asked.

I pulled Tommy into her line of sight by his shirt sleeve. "I invited him to dinner, but he doesn't have a suit. I think one of your sons is the right size? I could pay you for it, of course."

She laughed, and opened the door wide for us to enter. "No need to pay me. I already got another one in here, trying on Larry's suit." She sized up Tommy with her eyes. "You're just a little bit smaller than my older one, Nigel. Hold on."

She disappeared through a doorway. Tommy looked around, slightly out of place in the room full of grandeur and extravagance. "Do all yer rooms look like this?" he asked curiously.

"Fairly the same, yes," I said.

"Damn," he said appreciatively. I laughed as Molly came out with a big box in her arms.

"Here it is," she said, setting it on the couch. She grabbed Tommy by one arm, and began to pull him away. He stared at me with a startled and unsure expression, but Molly continued, "Go in here and clean yourself up, and then we'll try it on."

She pushed him in, and slammed the door on him. She turned to me with a friendly smile, already in her own dinner outfit.

"So," she said slyly, "why exactly did you invite this young man to dine with us this evening?"

I smiled to myself, playing with a section of my dress absentmindedly. "Well…he helped me out the other day, and today."

"How?" she persisted.

"He helped me find my way when I was lost," I answered. That's really what he had done on both days.

She smiled knowingly. "I know that look," she sighed. "He's good-lookin' too; you're lucky."

I shook my head quickly. "Oh no, it isn't like that. He's just…a friend…sort of."

"Sure he is," she said disbelievingly. She glanced at the clock on the mantle. "You should go change yourself, darlin'. I can lead him to dinner for you."

I nodded, stood up, and knocked on Tommy's door. "Tommy, I'm going to go change my dress. Mrs. Brown is going to show you where to go for dinner!"

"Alright," he called back.

I thanked Molly again, and then quickly went to my own room. Rebecca had already set out a dress when I got there. It was another short-sleeve, so she'd set out a scarf. The dress was dark red with charcoal trim that perfectly matched the scarf I'd picked. It laced in the front. If you pulled the string, it would basically all just come undone in your hands. Rebecca helped me into it, pulled half of my hair up, leaving the rest to hang to my mid-back, and secured it with a silver comb shaped like a dove. I had a simple pair of red heels, and some makeup applied and I was ready.

I walked by myself to the grand staircase, and looked down. I didn't see Tommy or Mrs. Brown, but I saw Jack. He was standing at the bottom of the staircase by himself, and his attire didn't seem out of place at all. The only reason I'd even noticed him was because he was so far away from the rest of the crowd, and was copying the actions of the people there to seem normal. He was wearing a classic black tux with a white shirt, and his hair was slicked back perfectly. I walked down the stairs to him, and smiled when he caught my eye.

"Well, Mr. Dawson," I said jokingly, "I do believe I almost lost you in the crowd. You've done a wonderful job blending in."

"It's just Jack," he told me with a grin. "And if I'm doing such a good job, then how did you see me?"

I quickly stood up as straight as possible. "Shoulders back, chin up, and smile like you own the world. That's really the key. You just don't look arrogant enough."

He rolled his shoulders, and raised his chin. A man passing nodded at him, and he did the same.

"Very good," I commented with a smile. I could hear Cal's voice clearly above the others, and turned to see him descending the stairs. "This is the real moment of truth," I said from the corner of my mouth to Jack.

Cal and Ruth both nodded to me, and looked right past Jack like he wasn't there.

"That's good!" I told him encouragingly. "It means you don't stick out."

He was watching Cal talk, and was trying to mock his mannerisms. I laughed as he did so, but he suddenly looked up and it was like he forgot what was going on. I followed his gaze, and saw Rose coming towards us. She looked beautiful, as usual, and didn't even notice me. She only had eyes for him. He drifted over to where she was, probably not even realizing he'd moved.

I watched him kiss her hand, and they laughed quietly. He took her arm, and they walked over to where Cal and Ruth were. Rose grinned at me, and I stood on her other side as she got Cal's attention.

"Darling?" she said to Cal. "You remember Mr. Dawson?"

"Dawson?" Cal spluttered, quickly recovering his asinine attitude. "Amazing! You could almost pass for a gentleman!"

"Almost?" I asked, slight outrage apparent in my voice.

"Almost," Jack said calmly, eyes on Cal, who simply said, "Extraordinary…" took Ruth's arm, and walked off.

Jack offered me his other arm, and said, "I'll escort you too, madam, if you like."

I shook my head, chuckling. "No, I actually have a guest for dinner myself. I'll meet you down there."

"Splendid!" Jack said in a posh English accent, and then led Rose away while they both laughed.

I was shaking my head at them when a throat cleared loudly behind me. I turned, and was astonished at what I saw. On the arm of Molly Brown was Tommy, but he looked even more refined than Jack. She'd managed to tame his curls so that they laid flat on his head, slicked back like Jack's. He wore a black tuxedo with a white shirt to match and black tie. His shoes were shiny and polished, and he was somehow already holding himself like a proper gentleman. It looked like she'd even made him shave. Molly beamed at me.

"I'm going to go check up on Jack and Rose," she told me. "I'll see you in there."

She left, and I stood there, facing Tommy at a loss for words. He bowed, took my hand, and kissed it like he had that first day.

"Good evening, Miss Ismay," he said. I reveled in the one thing about him that hadn't changed: his voice.

"Good evening, sir," I said, making my accent over-exaggerated. "I don't believe we've met."

He straightened up. "I'm Thomas Ryan. It's marvelous to meet your acquaintance."

"So true, Mr. Ryan," I said. Tommy suddenly cracked a grin, and I laughed.

He held out his arm. "Shall we dine?"

"We shall," I replied, taking his arm.

We walked through the hordes of first class people, and no one gave us a second glance.

"You're good at this," I whispered.

"Actually," he said, "this is killin' me back, and I feel like an arse."

I laughed again. "That's alright. It hurts all of us, and everyone here is much more of an ass than you."

He glanced around, and nodded. "That's true." I grinned as we walked down a second set of stairs into the dining hall where the band was playing obnoxious classical music. I nodded at the people I knew politely, and some of their eyes strayed to Tommy curiously, probably wondering who he was and where he got his money from.

"So, are you ready for this?" I asked him as we got to the bottom of the stairwell.

"No," he admitted bracingly. "Let's go."

I smiled, and pointed a bit further on. "There's Rose."

We walked over, and I smiled at her. "Good evening," I said in a deep, gruff voice, impersonating my father.

She laughed. "How very lovely it is to see you tonight Miss Ismay. Might I introduce my dinner guest, Mr. Dawson?"

Jack bowed deeply, and I curtsied slightly. Rose was giggling, and the people around us were scowling slightly or wrinkling their noses up at us.

"Forgive my manners," I said. "This is my guest, Thomas Ryan."

Tommy nodded haughtily, but Jack gaped honestly at him. "Holy shit, Tommy?" he asked, losing all pretense.

Tommy winked. "Good to see ya, Jack."

Jack glanced at Rose, and then smirked. "I guess it's time for angels to start flying out of our asses, isn't it?"

Tommy laughed. "I guess I was wrong."

Rose and I stared between them like a tennis match, not understanding the conversation. We glanced at each other, both of our faces showing lack of understanding.

"Evelyn!" someone called. I turned, and saw my father walking towards me. His eyes were scanning Tommy curiously. When he was upon us, he nodded at Rose. "It's good to see you tonight, Ms. Dewitt-Bukater. Ah, Mr. Dawson, good of you to join us." He turned away from them as if they didn't exist. Molly came up to them, and Jack escorted the two women into the hall.

"Who is this, Evelyn?" he asked. Only someone who had lived with him could detect the hostility in his friendly tone and expression.

"This is Tommy Ryan," I introduced. "Tommy, this is Bruce Ismay, my father."

They shook hands. "Good to meet you, sir," Tommy said. I could tell he was taking particular care to articulate his words.

"And you," he replied, making it clear it wasn't that good. "Ryan…I'm afraid I don't recall any first class passengers named Ryan."

"Well, you wouldn't," Tommy said calmly. "I'm in the third class."

The silence was so thick that I thought people might bounce off the atmosphere around us if they got too close. My father looked like he was close to exploding, but Tommy didn't seem to notice the tension.

"Steerage?" my father said tightly. "Then what exactly…"

He trailed off, but I answered his technically unasked question. "I found myself lost beneath the ship yesterday, and Mr. Ryan was kind enough to help me find my way. Repayment was in order, so I invited him to dinner with us tonight."

My father's eyes pierced my face, but I stared coolly back. Finally he said, "Very well.", and marched off.

"What fatherly love," Tommy scoffed. I just shook my head, and tugged him along after my father.

We walked the rest of the distance to the table, and I sat down on the left of my father. I was surprised when Tommy pulled my chair out for me. I smiled at him as I sat down. He took a seat at my other side, and I introduced him to everyone else at the table, conveniently leaving out that he wasn't first class. Like Jack, they just assumed he was new money. My father however, was tense with lividness, and said barely anything.

Jack sat between the Countess of Rothes and Molly, looking quite at ease. Tommy seemed perfectly comfortable too. Everything was going well…until caviar was served.

"Tell us of the accommodations of steerage on this ship, Mr. Dawson," Mrs. Dewitt-Bukater said with fake interest. "I hear they're quite good on this ship."

I stared at her coolly, even though she didn't notice. Tommy's eyes darted around at them all, as if he expected to be verbally attacked next. I wouldn't have been surprised if he was.

Jack seemed unperturbed, on the other hand. "The best I've seen, ma'am, hardly any rats." Everyone laughed politely, but I noticed the Countess of Rothes, seemed to lean further away from him.

"Mr. Dawson is joining us in the third class," Cal told everyone. "He was of some assistance to my fiancé last night."

My father opened his mouth, and I knew he was about to announce that Tommy was also third class. I didn't want him to be embarrassed or in the spotlight, so I was getting ready to intervene when Rose did.

"It turns out that Mr. Dawson is quite a fine artist," she said, giving me a small smile. "He was kind enough to show me some of his work today." I smiled gratefully at her.

"Rose and I differ somewhat in our opinion of fine art," Cal said boredly. He glanced at Jack. "Not to impugn your work, sir."

Jack just waved it off, looking uncaring. Rose began to cough loudly into her napkin, but I could tell she was telling Jack something behind it. He seemed to get the message, whatever it was. I realized quickly what she'd been trying to tell him, and whispered the same thing to Tommy.

"Put your napkin in your lap," I whispered urgently. He picked it up, fumbling as he unfolded it, to lay it in his lap.

He glanced down at his silverware with a look of utter bewilderment.

"I have no idea what I'm doin'," he admitted in an undertone.

I began to give him instructions on which utensil to use for what under my breath, not paying attention to my father talking. He seemed to have regained some of the gusto he'd lost from Tommy's presence.

"So…I use this one now?" he asked. We both reached for the small fork at the same time, and his hand landed on top of mine. Our eyes met quickly, and then I looked away, yanking my hand out from under his. I looked around at the table, hoping no one saw the exchange.

"How do you take your caviar, sir?" a waiter asked Tommy as another one plopped some onto my plate.

"Caviar?" he asked. "No, no thank ya."

The waiter seemed slightly confused. The people in the immediate area of the table seemed to have realized there was another underclass man in their midst because they now looked at him cautiously. I hated caviar as well, but if you didn't eat it, it was obvious you were an outsider.

"And where exactly do you live, Mr. Dawson?" Ruth asked Jack.

"Well, right now my address is the R.M.S. Titanic," he admitted shamelessly. "After that, I'm on God's good humor."

"And how is it you have means for travel?" she asked curiously.

I thought that that was a rather rude question, but obviously could say nothing about it.

"I work my way from place to place," he explained. "You know, tramp steamers and such." He scratched his nose, and I smiled at the look the Countess gave him. "But I won my ticket on Titanic here at a lucky hand at poker, a _very_ lucky hand." He exchanged a smile with Rose.

"All life is a game of luck," Colonel Gracie said randomly. That man needed to lay off the brandy.

"Mmm," Cal said, shaking his head slightly. "A real man makes his own luck, Archie. Right, Dawson?"

Jack, who had not been paying attention to what he was saying, nodded and made a noncommittal sound.

"I don't like him much," Tommy whispered in my ear, looking at Cal.

"I don't think really anyone does," I replied sheepishly. "But most of his family's steel made this ship, so he's near royalty here."

"Of course," Tommy scoffed.

"And you find that sort of rootless existence appealing, do you?" said Ruth to Jack in a most unpleasant tone.

Molly gave her a shut-your-mouth look, and my eyebrows rose.

Jack just smiled faintly. "Well, yes, ma'am, I do. I mean, I got everything I need right here with me. Got air in my lungs, and a few blank sheets of paper…I mean, I love waking up in the morning, and not knowing what's going to happen, or," he took a huge bite of bread, and proceeded to speak with his mouth full, "who I'm gonna meet, where I'm gonna end up. Just the other night I was sleeping under a bridge, and now here I am on the grandest ship in the world drinking champagne with you fine people. I'll take some more of that," he added to that waiter. Everyone laughed, but I saw Rose's admiring look directed at him.

"I figure life's a gift," Jack continued, "and I don't intend on wasting it. He sipped loudly on his renewed glass of champagne. "You never know what hand you're gonna get dealt next. You learn to take life at it comes at ya. Here you go, Cal." He tossed some matches at Cal, who seemed to have been searching for some. Cal caught them with a distasteful look. "To make each day count," he finished.

"Well said, Jack," Molly said.

"Hear, hear!" Colonel Gracie added. Even my father looked slightly impressed at his words.

Rose raised her glass in the air. "To making it count," she said, eyes never leaving Jack.

"To making it count," everyone except Cal and Ruth chorused, raising their own glasses in a toast. Jack did so last, taking a drink with a smile.

"Bravo!" Colonel Gracie finished.

Everyone focused on ordering their food for a moment until the inevitable came.

"You said your surname was Ryan, correct?" Cal asked Tommy.

"Yes, sir," he answered in his thick Irish accent.

"As in the Queenstown Ryans?" Mr. Andrews asked, genuinely curious, unlike almost everyone else, who was only cared about how much money he was worth.

"No, sir," Tommy said. "I'm from a small town just an hour outside of the area."

"Mr. Ryan," my father said quickly, seizing his chance, "is also joining us in steerage." I wasn't sure how they would handle two that weren't their kind, but they only reacted curiously, like he was an exotic animal. "He's a guest of my daughter's tonight."

"I made use of Mr. Ryan's acute sense of direction yesterday," I said, smiling warmly at Tommy, "when I found myself lost around D deck."

Tommy just nodded in agreement, smiling crookedly.

"And what brings you to the Titanic, Mr. Ryan?" asked Sir Gordon.

"I'm heading ta southern Pennsylvania," he explained, "to find some work. Jobs were gettin' hard ta hold on ta back where I lived. I'll probably get a job in a lumberyard; find some place ta settle down."

"A hard worker," said Gracie approvingly. "A true man will work hard for a living if he needs to!"

"A real man wouldn't need to," my father countered.

"On the contrary," I said icily, "I find that the best sort of man builds his own wealth, and doesn't simply inherit already rich companies."

There was a bit of a tense silence as my father and I stared each other down, but finally Molly said, "The real man is in the eye of the beholder, I've found."

"Well put," said Rose quickly. I turned away from my father as the food came, and didn't speak much for the rest of the meal.

When our dinner plates were being cleared I nearly jumped a foot when a hand touched my leg. No one noticed though, and my eyes snapped onto Tommy, who was the owner of the hand.

"Ya alright?" he asked quietly. He didn't seem to find the placement of his hand inappropriate at all. Even though it was, I couldn't seem to find the desire to push it off.

"I'm just ready to get out of here," I whispered back. He gave me a sympathetic look. I realized about a minute later that he hadn't moved his hand. I didn't tell him to either. Hell, no one could see it anyway because it was concealed by the tablecloth.

My bad mood disappeared rather abruptly ten minutes later after Molly told a rather amusing story about her husband when they had first became wealthy. She had everyone there in stitches. When the laughter died down, I checked the time. It was about that moment where the men left to go to the smoking room. The women would either stay at the table, or go back to their cabins.

"Well," said Gracie, "join me in a brandy, gentlemen?" They all began to agree like it was surprising idea they didn't do every day after dinner.

"It's over," I whispered, relieved to Tommy.

"Ya still comin' to the party, right?" he asked hopefully.

I smiled. "Well, you completed my first condition, so…we'll just have to see if you follow the other one when I meet you there."

He smile devilishly, and said quietly, "Don't worry; I won't have no trouble with that one."

"Evelyn," my father said sharply. Only when I leaned away from Tommy did I realize just how close we'd been leaning. I cleared my throat, blushing scarlet.

"Yes?" I asked, turning to look at him. He was leering at me.

"Would you like me to escort you back to your cabin?" he asked.

"No, I think I'll stay," I said. He nodded, and stood. "Ladies, thank you for the pleasure of your company," he called out pompously.

When Jack stood, Tommy did too. He took my hand, and leaned down to kiss it. "Meet me at that fancy staircase in five minutes," he whispered against my hand. I nodded, and he smirked at me before he walked off. I kept my eyes on his retreating back, my knee feeling strangely cold in the absence of his hand.

**Yes, I know Molly only had one son. People, this is FICTION. Not real. I needed an extra son so I could get my suit, haha.  
**

**I think I might just push your limits for this chapter...five reviews, pretty please? :)) YOU CAN DO IT! I BELIEVE IN EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU!  
**

**Thanks for reading, and I really hope you liked it.  
**


	5. With Just a Harmless Dance

**It took less than twelve hours for me to get all of the reviews, and I even got one more than I asked for. I can't even...I'M JUST SO HAPPY! :DDDD**

**Every time I get a review, it makes my day a little brighter. :) Thanks everyone for all the feedback, and I'm really glad that people have been reviewing so quick. These chapters have been going out faster and faster! **

**Anyway, I want to let you all know that you should check my profile from time to time. I put updates on there at the bottom about my stories and ideas and stuff. Just if you want to know what's going on with my writing. (: **

**So the song for this chapter is "Unforgettable Night" by Jamestown Story. It's a beautiful song, and it really applies to the Tommy/Evelyn relationship. Go listen to it!**

**I've been watching Titanic everyday. I use it for reference, and I like to use exact dialogue. I know so much about it that I often spew information about the wreck or the night of the sinking to anyone who will listen. I think my friends are getting annoyed with me. **

**I hope you like it! :D  
**

_With Just A Harmless Dance_

When Jack walked away, Rose stared at something in her hand, and then brought it under the table to look at it. I quickly made my way over to the seat next to her. She was reading a small note. She looked at Jack's retreating figure, and then at me.

"What's it say?" I asked in an undertone.

"He wants me to meet him at the clock at the top of the grand staircase," she whispered back.

"I'm meeting Tommy around there," I said quietly.

"Do you want to go then?" she asked. I nodded. We both turned to her mother.

"Mother, Evelyn and I are going up to her cabin," she said convincingly. "She has a book I'd like to borrow."

Her mother nodded, but didn't look completely convinced of our honesty. She didn't comment though as we both almost ran away from the dining room. We didn't talk as we wound our way through society's finest, nodding quickly at anyone who talked to us. We both dodged around the captain, who attempted to engage us in conversation, saying we were late for something. I was surprised it didn't strike the captain that there wasn't much of anything to be late for.

When we got to the grand staircase, I spotted Tommy right away. He was at the bottom of the stairs, leaning casually against a column. I'd never seen a man who I wanted to be close to so badly, just from looking at him. But when I looked at Tommy…it was like a desperate urge to know all of his secrets, and spill all of mine.

I didn't notice Rose had left my side until I caught sight of her red hair at the top of the stairs. She was talking to Jack up there. He took her arm, and they walked off. I approached Tommy, and he grinned when he noticed me.

"We have ta stop off at me cabin for a moment," he said, offering me his arm and starting up the stairs once I'd taken it. "I need to take this suit off."

I suddenly saw a vivid image in my mind of him doing just that, and my face heated up like I was being rapidly filled with boiling water. I tried my best to focus on each twist and turn deeper into the ship so I could get the image of him (_all _of him) out of my head. Left, long hallway, right, right, left, three steps down, left, left, longer hallway…

"This is it," he said, stopping at a room. "Will ya be alright for a minute?" I nodded, and he shut the door. A lot of people were walking around outside, just going about their business. I saw a young couple around my age enter the corridor. The man was holding a small little girl, who was fast asleep on his shoulder. He smoothed her hair lovingly, and his wife smiled fondly at the sight as she opened their cabin door and the little family disappeared behind it. I tried to imagined being in the same position with Carlton, but instead I saw him holding her at an awkward angle, unsure around children, and I just sneered at him as I opened the door. I doubted there could ever be even a friendship between us. At the least I could imagine avoiding him as much as possible.

I thought of having children with the buffoon, and grimaced. I'd managed to get the details of how that worked from Rebecca (although it took a lot of weeding and whining), and I _never _wanted to be in such a situation with that man.

Tommy's door opened, and he emerged looking just as he always did. His curls were wild again, and he had a black hat placed on top of them. He'd paired an off-white, rather baggy shirt with an unbuttoned brown vest and tan pants. His scuffed shoes were back. I found him so much more appealing this way. It was mostly because it was so…him. When he was all dressed up you sort of lost him behind the glamor, and I didn't like that.

"Ready?" he asked.

"Yeah," I said. He raised an eyebrow at the nervousness I tried to hide, but didn't comment as he started down the hall.

After awhile I heard muffled music blasting merrily through the hallways. It was still awhile before we actually reached the room though, the music getting immensely louder the closer we got.

"Here we are!" he said cheerfully, throwing a door open for me.

The smell hit me rather hard: cigarette smoke, alcohol, and sweat. The music was almost ear-shattering, and there was so much activity that it was hard to focus on one thing at a time. People were dancing at every corner of the room, and the band stood in the middle playing the music. Everyone was talking and laughing and enjoying themselves. I'd never been to such a party in my life.

"This is…incredible," I said loudly so Tommy could hear me over the music.

He grinned, and nodded to the corner. "Rose is over there. Ya want ta go sit with her?"

I nodded, and he took my hand. My fingers fit perfectly between his. He pulled me through the mass of bodies with expertise, which made me believe that he'd probably been to things like this a lot.

"I'm going to get us some drinks," he yelled. I nodded, and he walked away. I bent down next to Rose and said, "Fancy seeing you here, Dewitt-Bukater."

She turned, and beamed when she saw me. "I was wondering what was taking you so long," she shouted over the loud noise. "Where's Tommy?"

"Getting drinks," I informed her. "Jack?"

She nodded towards the dance floor, and I saw him out there dancing with a little girl who looked positively thrilled. It was actually rather adorable. I sat down next to Rose, and we both clapped along with the music. There was a Swedish man sitting across from us, and when our eyes met, he smiled flirtatiously. I returned the smile shyly, unsure of him.

He leaned across suddenly, and said something in a foreign language to Rose and me.

"What?" we both yelled at the same time. Tommy showed up then, his hands full of drinks and a cigarette in his mouth. He set one in front of me.

The Swedish man repeated what he'd said before, but Rose and I glanced uncomprehendingly at each other.

"We can't understand you!" she told him, gesturing to her ear with a big smile. I'd never seen her smile like that. She picked up a drink, and didn't hesitate to take a big gulp. I picked up mine, sniffed it, and heard someone laugh. It was Tommy. I really loved his laugh.

"It ain't gonna kill ya, I promise," he said merrily. I rolled my eyes, and took a drink. It was bitter, but it made my stomach warm, so I took a bigger gulp. There was a loud crash, and I looked in the direction of the noise. A man had fallen on a table drunkenly, but he stood back up and asked for another drink. I laughed.

The song ended, and everyone clapped. I saw Fabrizio with the same pretty blonde from before, and he waved at me like we were old friends. I waved back.

Jack bent down to the little girl he'd been dancing with, and said something to her. She went and sat down with a man who must be her father. He gestured for Rose to come join him, but she looked terrified. She looked at me pleadingly, but I just shoved her at him. I could hear her protesting loudly while he adjusted her position for the dance. When he pulled her against him she blushed. She was determinedly avoiding meeting my eyes while the music started up again.

Some man I didn't know fell heavily onto the bench next to me, picked up one of the drinks on the table and drank out of it. He had red hair, brown eyes, and a load of freckles. He addressed Tommy in an American accent. "Hey, Tommy, did you hear there are a couple of first class girls down here?"

Tommy smirked at me, whom the guy appeared not to have noticed. "Really?" he asked, taking a drag from his cigarette. "I wonder where."

"Yeah, me too," the guy said devilishly. He was clearly drunk. "Maybe I can invite one back to my cabin for a…different type of dance." He and the Swedish guy burst out laughing, but Tommy just smiled knowingly. I stared appalled at the man.

"Oh, by the way, Isaac, this is Evelyn," Tommy said, nodding at me. "Evie, this is me roommate, Isaac."

Isaac turned his beady eyes on me, squinting, and then gasped as he took in my appearance. "You're one of them!" he exclaimed.

"One of what?" I asked coolly, taking a drink from my cup.

"You're…," he hesitated, and then smirked at me just as the Swedish man had, "one of the beautiful ones. It's good to see a pretty girl around here."

"I really don't want ta hit you," Tommy said dryly, "so it might be best if ya backed off."

Isaac held up his hands like he was surrendering. "Sorry, man. I didn't know she was yours."

I opened my mouth to object, but closed it just as fast. I flushed with pleasure at being called his, and Tommy was grinning satisfactorily. He snubbed out his cigarette suddenly, and walked around the table. He held out his hand. "It's time for me to finish your second condition."

"What?" I asked blankly.

"Dance with me," he commanded.

"Yeah," Isaac said from behind me. "Let's see if a first class girl can dance!"

Tommy laughed when I rounded on him. "Of course I can dance!" I exclaimed. "They teach you in finishing school: waltz, salsa, fox trot!"

"That ain't dancing," Isaac said dismissively. "That's stepping around in a creative circle hug."

I had to laugh at his description, but stopped when I was suddenly pulled from my seat.

"Tommy, stop!" I squealed as he pulled me into the midst of the dancers just as the last song stopped. "I don't know how to dance like this!" I hadn't wanted to admit it, but I didn't know that the dancing would be like this. I'd hoped Tommy would let it go, and simply let me enjoy the aura of the place, rather than actually dancing.

"Neither do I!" he said. "Just go with it, like the rest of us!"

We started to dance all around the room, spinning in circles, and twisting through the other couples. I was laughing hysterically and having more fun than I had…ever. I was so close to Tommy that every inch of our fronts' were touching the other's, and it made our height difference more obvious. My eyes were level with his shoulder. His hand was at my mid-back, and I was hyperaware of that fact.

He finally let me rest after three songs, and sat down. I was on my second drink, and it was obvious how little I drank alcohol the more I drank tonight. I was already sort of light-headed. Time sort of blurred for a few minutes, and suddenly Tommy was in an arm-wrestling match with the Swedish guy, cigarette clenched between his teeth. I don't even remember how that came about. I stood behind his chair while men surrounded us, cheering them on.

Jack and Rose appeared on the other side, and Jack took two drinks from the table and handed one to her. I squeezed through the crowd to her other side.

"Having fun?" I asked loudly.

She stopped guzzling her drink, and nodded, not noticing Jack's surprised expression at how much she drank. "Yes! This isn't like our sort of parties, is it?"

I shook my head. "It's better!"

She nodded in agreement. A guy that was next to Jack stumbled into him, and he accidentally threw his drink on both of us. It hit Rose mostly in the face and hair, and went all over my neck and chest. We both screamed in surprise, and Jack grabbed the guy by the collar and jerked him to the side.

"Are you alright?" Jack yelled to both of us.

I nodded, and Rose said, "I'm fine!" I wiped off my chest with the scarf I had around my shoulders. There was a bang, and some cheers and the arm-wrestling match was over. It appeared Tommy had lost.

"Two out of three, two out of three!" Tommy exclaimed, arm already back in position for another round. The guy agreed, and they were about to start when Rose intervened, slamming her cup down between them.

"So!" she said loudly, taking Tommy's cigarette from between his lips and taking a drag. "You think you're big tough men? Let's see you do this!"

She gave me a significant look, and I already knew. "Are we doing the point thing?"

"Yes, we're doing the point thing!" She handed the edge of her dress to Jack, and I hoisted mine up. I stared at the guy next to me for a second, and then jammed the edge into his hand.

"Hold that up!" I told him, he did with a look like he was shocked I'd even spoken to him. I kicked off my shoes, and Rose nodded at me to go.

We both slowly raised our arms in an arch over our heads, going up on our tiptoes as we did so. Her eyes were closed, but I focused on the opposite wall. This took a lot of concentration, and I could feel eyes on me from all around.

We kept rising until finally, at the same time, we both went onto the very tips of our big toes, on point. Pain shot through my feet, but I didn't fall or stop. I clenched my teeth, and waited. Rose screamed in pain, and fell sideways into Jack, while I just fell gracefully back onto the flats of my feet. When I looked around, everyone was clapping for us, looking impressed.

"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!" one woman exclaimed.

Tommy stood up, and came around to me. He put his hand on my shoulder, and said in my ear, "I had no idea you could do that!"

"I didn't know if I still could!" I admitted. "I was a ballerina in finishing school. I haven't done it since I was sixteen."

He pulled his hand away, and stared at it like it confused him. "Why are you wet?" he asked me curiously.

I laughed. "I had a drink thrown in my face!" I informed him happily.

He was furious suddenly, glowering around at everybody in the room. "Who did it? I'll kick their arse, I don't care who they are."

"No, no," I said, patting his chest so he would look back down at me. "It was an accident. It's okay!"

He looked like he might protest, but nodded eventually. He picked up a drink, took a sip, and gave it to me. I took two big gulps, and handed it back. He downed it. Afterwards, he just stared at me.

"What?" I asked.

"D'ya want ta go up ta the deck?" he asked.

I didn't even think about it, just nodded immediately. He grabbed my hand, and pulled me away without another word.

Once we were up on deck, we walked side by side with our fingers still intertwined.

"Did ya have fun?" he asked.

I nodded, unable to stop grinning. "Yes! I've never had a better time. I wish it didn't have to end," I admitted.

"It doesn't," he said. He was slightly slurring his words, so I knew the alcohol had taken effect.

"Then what will we do?" I asked, immediately up for staying with him than going back to my room.

He walked up to the railing on the boat, but didn't say anything. We both stood there, under the most brilliant stars I'd ever seen, and staring out at the black water.

"I feel like I've known ya forever, Evie," he admitted suddenly.

"I felt like that about you the first time I saw you," I admitted sheepishly.

"I…," he paused, slightly swaying on the spot, but finally continuing drunkenly, "do not want ya ta get married."

"Why not?" I asked, hoping he would say what I'd been feeling.

"Because," he turned to stare into my eyes, "I…feel things for ya."

"What sort of things?"

"Things…that make me think about you all the time and want to know every single detail about your life. I don't like ta think about arrivin' in New York because I know that we'll get off this ship, and never see each other again."

It got quiet, but he kept staring at my profile while I stared at the sea below us. I turned my body towards him, and whispered, "It doesn't have to be that way…"

I could feel myself leaning towards him, and could see him doing the same. Part of me was thinking of my father and Carlton Weston, but the very center of myself was saying I'd never do anything more right than be right here with Tommy Ryan.

The second my lips met his, it was like everything in my life changed. The planets aligned, the universe clicked into place, and I was no longer half a person. Right here was everything I needed, in my arms and attached to my mouth.

He tasted like cigarettes and alcohol, but there was something unbearably sweet beneath that that I couldn't pinpoint the identity of. The way we moved together was like we'd been doing this for years; knowing everything the other would do seconds before they did it.

I froze suddenly, and pushed him away. He swayed again, but managed not to fall.

"Tommy," I said quietly, "I really…_really_ like you, but I don't want to do this right now."

"Why not?" he asked stupidly.

"You're drunk," I pointed out.

Suddenly he was smiling widely, and not seeming unbalanced at all. His eyes even refocused. "I'm not drunk," he said evenly.

I blinked a few times. "What?"

"I'm not drunk, never was," he repeated. "I pretended ta be so I could say all that. If ya didn't feel the same, I could just tell ya tomorrow that I only said it because of the alcohol. But ya do."

He was grinning like he was so proud of himself, but I was infuriated. I slapped him in the chest. "Tommy Ryan!" I shrieked. "You sneak! That was all under false pretenses!"

He laughed. "No, it would've been if I was drunk."

I just made an angry noise, and went to walk around him. He grabbed me around the waist, and swung me back around.

"Where are ya goin'?" he asked confusedly.

"Away from you!" I said angrily.

"And why would ya want ta do that?"

"Because you tricked me!"

He set me down, and spun me to face him, looking worried for the first time since I met him. "I had to, alright! I…," he let go of me, and ran his hands through his hair stressfully. "I knew that I had ta tell ya that I have feelings for ya, but I didn't know how ya would take it. If you didn't return them, I still wanted to see ya, so I decided to pretend to be drunk, that way if ya did feel the same ya could just tell me and not feel pressured, but if ya didn't I could tell ya tomorrow that I didn't mean what I said and still be your friend, Evie."

A part of me understood what he was saying, but an even bigger part was so embarrassed and was starting to realize things. How could a relationship of any kind between us possibly work out? I was engaged to a rich man who could provide for me, our children, our grandchildren, and even our great-grandchildren. I might hate him, but there was no doubt in my mind that I would never go without. Tommy was going to get work in a lumberyard where the hours were long, the work was back-breaking, and the pay was minuscule. He was going to America to take care of his sisters, and I doubted that there was a possibility I could fit into that equation.

On top of those doubts, I'd only known him for a couple of days. The things I thought I felt for him seemed impossible in that amount of time. Maybe I was so desperate to get away from my future that I was simply making up feelings for an escape. Hell, it might not even be Tommy. I probably would have invented these intense feelings for any man who paid attention to me on this boat. It was all just a hoax.

I started to back away, staring at him with blank eyes. "I have to go," I whispered.

"Please don't," he begged. "I'm sorry I pretended ta be drunk."

I shook my head. "It's not that. I'm engaged. I'm the daughter of the man who owns the biggest ship company in the world, and when I arrive in New York I'm going to marry the son of the man who owns the most successful business in America. Don't you see? It could never work between us."

"It could if ya tried!" he said, taking a few steps forward. He sounded so hopeful.

"You're asking me to give up my whole life!"

"A life that ya hate!" he pointed out. "Ya don't want ta be that girl, Evie! Ya don't want ta go ta galas, eat caviar, and talk ta all of those stuck up women ya call your friends! Ya want ta be that girl that was just down at the party: drinking beer, dancing dances you don't know, and being with real people! I would never ask ya ta give up a life ya loved, and ya know that! Don't lie ta yourself for them!"

I just shook my head. "You don't know me."

That seemed to stop him because his jaw set, and he just stared at me, almost accusingly. Finally he shoved his hands in his pockets, and said, "I guess ya've chosen. Who knew yer test would come so early, eh?"

"I'm sorry," I said quietly.

Even though there was a pull in my chest that was screaming for me to turn around, I strode across the deck, up the stairs to the first class deck, and to my stateroom, not letting the tears fall until I was safely locked in my bedroom.

**Yes, I do love intense emotion.**

**So, I think I'm going with six reviews for this one. :) I know you guys can get that many!**

**So review, pretty please, so I can put up the next chapter. :3  
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	6. Maybe I'm A Fake, Maybe You're to Blame

**SORRY THIS IS SO LATE! I had a blocked salivary gland, and had to get my mouth cut up to unblock it. D: My throat was swollen up to golf ball size, and...ugh. Terrible. I could barely talk.**

**Annnnnyyyyyway, I'd like to address one reviewer, so if you're not that reviewer, you can skip over this. :)**

**Frieda van den Huetten: Thank you SO much for the extremely helpful review. :D I didn't actually know about the makeup thing, but, like you said, James Cameron was rather lax with it, and that's why I thought that they did. :P Woops. Anyway, I was rereading my own writing, and I _did_ make her way too much like Rose, so I completely rewrote the last few chapters because of it. There will be a few more situations that seem a bit Jack/Rose, but they were necessary for the ending I wanted. And I'm glad you think that my story's good enough to get a good amount of reviews without my "keeping the story hostage", but I sincerely doubt that. I am still going to ask for a certain amount of reviews, because I think that people are only reviewing because I ask. :| I'm sorry if you don't like that, but that's just what I've always done. But thank you so much for the nudge in the right direction with my writing! It was greatly appreciated. (:**

**Everyone else: Thank you so much for the reviews, they really keep me going! :D Every time I get one, my day is made! **

**The song for this chapter is "Wonderless" by Pierce the Veil. There's also a separate song further into the chapter called "Falling Slowly" by Glen Hansard. It's so beautiful, and I highly recommend it!  
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**Read on, my darlings. :))  
**

_Maybe I'm a Fake, Maybe You're to Blame_

When I woke up the next day I felt an unexplainable pain in my chest, like there was someone sitting on me. I realized after a minute what the cause was.

I'd walked away last night, despite all my instincts. I'd left a life I'd never lived behind, choosing the familiar instead. It had felt like the right thing then, but now it seemed more foolish. What I was feeling was akin to drowning. But I'd chosen the smart route. I'd chosen stability, even though I'd had to sacrifice emotions, fun, and adventure…

I decided I didn't want to leave my bed that day. I didn't want to have to live the pathetic excuse for a life that I'd chosen.

I only laid there for about fifteen minutes when someone walked into my room. It was Rebecca.

"Wake up, Miss!" she said cheerfully, throwing back the curtains on the windows. I squinted through the light, and she turned around. "Oh! You're awake! Your father has asked me to get you ready for breakfast, and afterward he says he'll take you on a tour of the ship. I'll be coming too! Won't that be fun?"

"Tell my father that I'm feeling ill," I said lifelessly. "I won't be going anywhere today."

She seemed taken aback, but nodded. She shut the door behind her when she left.

I sat alone, and watched the sunlight filter into the room. It created strange shadowy shapes on the floor, and I watched them dance across the ground. Dancing…last night…

I groaned at the pang I felt in my chest, and wrenched the covers up over my head.

I heard my door open again, and then my father's voice, "Evelyn, what is the matter?"

"I'm ill," I said, voice muffled by the blankets. "I'm staying here."

He made a disapproving sound. "Your mother was ill every day when she was pregnant with you, and she always made a public appearance. So come on, up you get!"

The covers were ripped off me, and I saw a guilty looking Rebecca clutching them in her hands. I glared at my father.

"But I'm not pregnant, so I'll stay here."

"You'll be ready in a half hour to come down to breakfast," he said sternly. He checked his pocket watch quickly, and left the room. I trudged out of bed furiously

"Come on, Miss Evelyn," Rebecca said sympathetically. "After the tour I can bring you back here, and you can rest while I make you a cup of tea."

I just grunted angrily, and sat down heavily in my vanity chair. Rebecca ran my brush through my hair, and then arranged it in a thick braid that curled around my right shoulder. She pulled out a pale pink dress, and was about to put it over my head when I held up my hand.

"Get the corset," I commanded in a dead voice. She probably would have been delighted that I was going to wear it, but the tone I said it in made her look worried. She did as I asked regardless. I figured if I chose this life, I had to really choose it.

After she'd tied it up, she put the dress on and closed all the buttons on my back. I stood up, and stared appraisingly at my reflection in the mirror…perfect.

"I'll meet you on the deck at 10 o'clock, Miss," Rebecca said as I left the room.

I walked out into the corridor, and my father was there. He actually smiled genuinely at me when he saw me.

"On time!" he said, shocked. "And you look lovely, my dear."

"Thank you, father," I said formally. He looked even more surprised. I took his arm, and we walked down to breakfast. We greeted all the right people and I could feel the waves of pleasant surprise rolling off my father at my perfect behavior. He'd never been so proud of me, and I'd never felt more fake.

When we sat at the table I laughed at all the right stories, made all the right compliments, and stayed quiet when necessary. It was so unreal just how boring these people actually are when you listened to them. No one really cares about the Supreme Court, the stock market, or this week's fashions in Paris. To these people though it was like religion. I knew one person who shared my opinion: Rose, but she wasn't at our table. In fact, when I looked around she wasn't at breakfast at all. Her mother sat with the Countess, as usual, but even Cal wasn't there. It was disappointing.

"Well, ladies and gentlemen," my father said eventually, "I'm sorry to go, but I promised my daughter here a tour of the ship. I'll be seeing you at lunch, I hope?"

They all agreed, and he nodded approvingly as he pulled out my chair for me. I said goodbye to everyone, took his arm, and walked away. I saw Rose's mother walking out too, and sped up slightly so we could run into her.

"Well, hello, Mrs. Dewitt-Bukater," I said politely. She turned, and smiled.

"Evelyn, Bruce, good afternoon," she greeted. "I hope you are well."

"Very well," my father said, blatantly ignoring that I said I was ill earlier. "And you?"

"Splendid," she replied.

"Where is Rose this morning?" I asked. "I did hope she might accompany my father and me on a tour of the ship."

"Rose is not feeling well this morning," she answered regretfully. "She had breakfast on our promenade deck with Cal. She should be up and feeling better around lunch though. I'm sure she'll be sorry she missed it. I should be going to check up on her. Good day to you both."

She nodded at us, and walked on.

"Frightful," my father said worriedly. "It seems that everyone is catching cold."

"I'm sure it's just sea sickness for the both of us," I said pleasantly. "Nothing to be worried about." My father didn't say anything else, and I didn't tell him that if I hadn't gotten sea sickness on every other sea voyage I'd made with him, it was highly doubtful that I'd get it now. It was incredible to me that a man who ran a company as vital as his could be so dense.

We met up with Rebecca, and made our way around the ship. My father told us design stories about certain parts of the ship and some of the building disasters they'd had fixed or avoided. Rebecca and I laughed at the right parts, but my heart wasn't in it. We rounded a corner on the deck, and got a clear view of the lower levels. My heart stopped when I caught sight of curly hair, but it wasn't him. It was another man. I felt extreme disappointment.

We came across the captain, and talked to him for a few minutes. We made our way back to our rooms at around 12, to get ready for lunch. Rebecca walked in, but my father held me back.

"I want you to know," he started, "how proud I was of you today. You acted as a proper young lady should, something we rarely see from you. What brought about this change of heart?"

I smiled falsely. "I realized that my head is smarter than my heart," I said. It wasn't a complete lie. I had decided with my head instead of my heart.

"Good girl, it's what we've wanted all along." He walked to the room next door, and I shut my door behind me.

While I sat on the edge of my bed, Rebecca pulled dresses out for me to approve of. I waved them all away, barely looking at what she was showing me. I chose one randomly in the end, and didn't realize what it was until I was wearing it. It was an old one of my mother's that she'd passed down to me. She'd worn it when she was younger. It was white, short-sleeved, and high-necked. It had a light purple strip around my waist that was covered in more white lace, and had gold trim around the bottom. It had never before struck me just how much I looked like my mother, but in this dress I seemed nearly identical to her, besides the eyes.

I remembered when she was different than everyone else, when she didn't care what anyone said. She was the perfect mother, an honest person, and the most incredible woman I'd ever known. I was becoming just like her. I was letting everyone beat me down until I wasn't myself. I was…defeated. I yanked a white shawl out to cover my still bruised arm.

"I'll see you after lunch, Rebecca," I said crisply, leaving the room before she could say anything else. I entered the hall, and strode down it purposefully. I realized I was restraining tears, and didn't really know why. An image of my mother laughing flashed in my mind, and I shoved it down. So that was the reason.

When I reached the dining hall, I was happy to see Rose at our table, next to any empty seat. I took it, and said, "Hello, Rose. Are you feeling better?"

"Much, thank you," she said robotically. I saw my own lack of emotions reflected in her eyes. "I am sorry that I missed being able to tour with you. Perhaps we could take a walk after lunch."

"Certainly," I replied.

"So, Evelyn," said Madeleine Astor, "I was informed this morning of your engagement to Carlton Weston. Congratulations. He is such a wonderful man."

It was so false a sentiment that my smile was real. "Thank you."

"Your wedding is to be in August, I believe?" asked Mrs. Dewitt-Bukater.

"Yes," I replied. "Around the middle of the month. Mrs. Weston has already picked the venue. It will be held at Main Street Catholic Church, in Richmond." There were murmurs of impressed approval. The church was nearly the size of the Roman coliseum, and was practically impossible to book. But when you had endless amounts of means of persuasion, doors opened with ease. "The last I heard there should be near 500 guests." Barely any of which I knew.

"Yes, we received ours the day before we left for our voyage," said Mrs. Dewitt-Bukater boastingly.

My eyebrows rose, but I didn't comment. I hadn't been informed that the invitations had been sent out yet. I should have known that they were, I suppose, but it still came as sort of a shock. There was absolutely no turning back now. The invitations were out. Any chance I'd had was gone.

Conversation fell into wedding planning, the women talking about their own and mine and Rose's upcoming ones. They were trying to convince me to go with light gold bridesmaid dresses, when Rose said, "If you could excuse Evelyn and I, we're going to go get some fresh air."

The women all nodded, barely paying attention to us. We stood, passing all of the meaningless conversation, and ended up on the boat deck. Rose sighed once we were up there.

"Cal found out," she said quietly.

"Found out about what?" I asked.

"Where I was last night," she said guiltily. My mouth dropped slightly in surprise.

"But…how?" I gasped.

"He had Lovejoy follow me," she explained. "He says he saw you down there too. I thought I should warn you that it's only a matter of time before your father is told."

I swallowed convulsively, imagining the rage my father would fly into when he heard where I'd been. "It doesn't matter anymore. I won't see Tommy again."

"Why not?" she asked.

"We…discovered certain feelings last night," I told her in a hush voice. "I'm not daft. I understand that things could never work with a poor man. I have to forget about it. I'm marrying Carlton, and he can provide for me easily." I felt sick at my own words. She looked the same way I felt. "What did Cal say…when he told you he knew?"

"He…had a rather large fit at breakfast," she admitted. "He even threw the table."

My hand covered my mouth, and I grabbed her arm. "Rose, I'm so sorry! Are you alright?"

She nodded. "I'm fine, but…I had a talk with my mother after." She stopped walking, and looked away. I waited for her to continue. "Evelyn, my mother and I are no longer wealthy." My eyebrows joined together from confusion. "My father left us in terrible debt, unbeknownst to us until after the funeral. The only hope for us is my marriage to Cal." There were tears in her eyes, and she cleared her throat. "I can't see Jack again, ever."

I embraced her in a quick hug, and she returned it. "We have something in common then, don't we?"

She nodded sadly, and we stood there quietly. I replayed last night in my head and wished beyond any sort of hope that one day Tommy would find a brave girl who was willing to risk everything for him, and he could love her the way he couldn't love me. He deserved that.

"Actually," Rose spoke suddenly, "we don't have that in common."

"What?" I questioned.

"It isn't the same," she persisted. "I have no choice but to marry Cal. If I don't, we'll fall into poverty. No one is really depending on your marriage."

I blinked rapidly. "I still have to marry Carlton."

"No, you don't!" she said exasperatedly. "You're only telling yourself that because it's the easy way out. Think about it, Evelyn: where do you want to be when you step off of this boat? Would you rather be standing next to your father, walking into the arms of Carlton Weston, or do you want to be next to Tommy, not knowing what you're getting yourself into but happy nevertheless?"

God knows I didn't want to go to Carlton Weston when I got off this boat, but I wasn't sure if I wanted to be with Tommy either. It was impossible to be certain of what would happen if I did get off with him. He would have to get a job, and I might have to also. I had no idea where we would live, and we'd live day by day, and mist even go a day or two without eating if we didn't have enough money. But when I thought of Tommy, it didn't matter much. I could go without food for a day if I could look at him and know that he loved me as much as I did him. I couldn't imagine myself being happier than if I were to stay with him after this was over.

"I don't know how to live that life, Rose," I pointed out. "I don't know how to work for a living or do things for myself. I wasn't raised like that."

"You're only nineteen! You have plenty of time to learn how to. It'll be worth it if you can get away." She sighed, and looked me dead in the eyes. "If I could get off this boat without my mother and Cal, I would in a heartbeat. You have the chance. Don't let it slip away." She gave me an encouraging look, and walked off the way we'd come from.

I digested her words, knowing that I had a limited amount of time to decide. The life I knew or the one I'd have to adjust to. It was also a choice between happiness and stifling my own personality. I thought of my mother. She'd been so charismatic, but eventually her light had been put out, just like blowing out a candle. She'd turned cold. I didn't want that for myself. I didn't want to one day force any daughter I might have to marry someone she hated or even slap her in the face. I wanted my daughter to see me always as a happy woman who did the best with what she had. I didn't want her to see me sitting with my husband at a respectful distance as was proper and never saying more than a few words to each other. I wanted her to see us giggling and laughing, unable to keep our hands off of each other even in old age. And then I wanted her to find that same sort of love that was rare. I wanted her to walk into a field of flowers and pick the brightest one.

I took off running, a blurry outline of a child I hadn't had clear in my mind. When I reached the guard at the gate to the lower deck, I shoved him out of my way and sprinted down the stairs. He made an indignant sound, but I didn't stop. I couldn't remember the last time I ran; it must have been when I was a child. It felt amazing. The third class people seemed startled to see a woman dressed in fine clothes sprinting around on their deck, but I paid them no mind. I was looking for one person and him only.

"Evelyn!" someone called. I stopped and whirled around. Fabrizio stood there, grinning at me.

"What are you doing, running down here?" he asked. I roughly grabbed his shoulders, and he looked a little bewildered.

"Where's Tommy?" I asked urgently.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"I need to find Tommy!" I shouted. "Where is he?"

He pointed to his right. "I think I saw him on the deck down there. Evelyn, what's-"

I shot off, leaving Fabrizio looking dumbfounded. My heels clicked loudly against the wood of the deck, and the wind blew my hair wildly about me, some of it flying out of my braid. I rounded a corner, and froze, staring at the stern of the ship. Tommy was leaning against the pointy section at the very front of the ship, smoking a cigarette. This part of the deck was crowded, and there were groups of people all around, yet he was alone staring at the water.

"TOMMY RYAN!" I yelled. Everyone in the surrounding area turned to stare. Even though we were about twenty feet away, he turned. He didn't seem very surprised to see me, but he crossed his arms like he wasn't too thrilled about it.

I strode towards him, close to a jog. "What d'ya want?" he asked, rather coldly.

I just stared at him. "I don't want my daughter to resent me," I said simply.

He seemed confused. "Ya have a kid?" he asked.

I shook my head. "No, I mean when I do have a daughter I don't want her to resent me. My mother let the world she lived in turn her into a spiteful person, and I resent her because she let it all change her. I'm not going to let my daughter feel the same way about me," I explained.

"How d'ya fix that?" he asked, his unfriendliness gone, and slight amusement on his face.

"I've found that the best way to do that is to surround yourself with people who would never ask you to change yourself. There is one person in the world that I trust to never do that, no matter what. It's crazy, practically impossible, and against everything I've ever been taught, but that person…is you."

He appraised me, and I feared he might tell me that my moment had passed. He flicked his cigarette overboard, and then he smiled at me. My heart burst with happiness in my chest. He held out his hand, and I took two huge strides, put my hand in his, and let him pull me into him. For the second time ever, I kissed him, and it was just like the first time, like nothing in the world could be wrong. I'd never felt such a thing, and it made me sure that I was doing what was right.

He pulled away, and grinned down at me. "I knew ya'd come back."

"And how did you know that?" I asked, my face aching from the force of my smile.

"Instinct," he said simply.

I just stared into his eyes, memorizing the color and the shape. I reached up and traced his brow with one of my fingers. His eyes watched my lips.

"Do you want to come to my room?" I asked.

"Sure," he answered. I pulled out of his embrace, took his hand, and pulled him with me. I noticed some older women standing together, smiling fondly at us. I beamed at them even though I had no idea who they were. I doubted there was anything that could make me stop smiling right now.

When we got to my room, I looked around to make sure no one was in there. It was empty, so I pulled Tommy in.

"Shit," he said appreciatively. He peaked into my bedroom. "Yer closet is the same size as me whole room."

I laughed as I closed the windows on the promenade deck to shield us from the cold. "It's funny how my father had the ship designed, isn't it?" I said dryly.

His arms came around my waist from behind, and his lips touched my neck. I blushed wildly, feeling his heart beat against my back. His breath was warm against the back of my neck, but it made me shiver.

I spun around in his arms, and smirked at him.

"Dance with me," I commanded suddenly.

"There isn't any music," he pointed out.

"Then make some," I said. I turned, and pulled him in the middle of the floor, adjusting him into the dancing position.

He chuckled lowly, and I felt it throughout his chest. "Alright."

He spun me quickly, and then drew me back into his body. I giggled as he started to hum an unknown song as we swayed in a circle. He held my right hand very loosely in his, and his right was just resting on my lower back. My left wrapped around his broad shoulder, and I leaned my cheek against his chest. I could just make out the sound of his heartbeat.

"What song is that?" I asked suddenly.

"It's just somethin' me mother used ta sing ta me ta put me ta sleep when I was young," he answered quietly.

"Sing it," I demanded.

"I can't sing," he said quickly.

"I don't care," I said reassuringly. "I just want to hear it."

He sighed, frustrated, but agreed. "Fine."

He hummed the beginning, and then started the song.

"_I don't know you, but I want you all the more for that_," he sung quietly. His voice wasn't bad, it was actually rather plain, but it was the most beautiful thing I'd ever heard.

"_Words fall through me and always fool me, and I can't react_," he stopped, and hummed a little to bridge the gap between verses. "_And games that never amount to more than they're meant will play themselves out. Take this sinking boat, and point it home. We've still got time. Raise your hopeful voice. You have a choice. You'll make it now. Falling slowly, eyes that know me, and I can't go back_."

We continued to dance slowly in a circle, and I closed my eyes, letting him take over my senses completely.

"_And moods that take me and erase me, and I'm painted black. Well, you have suffered enough, and warred with yourself. It's time that you won. Take this sinking boat, and point it home. We've still got time. Raise your hopeful voice. You have a choice. You've made it now. Falling slowly, sing your melody. I'll sing along_."

He hummed for about a minute more, and then he stopped. We continued to dance though. I fell in love, right there in that moment. It didn't make sense, loving someone after only a few days, but I did love him. It seemed like the most obvious thing in the world that we should love each other. There could be no one else on the earth that could make me feel this way.

"That was beautiful," I whispered.

"Yeah, but I probably shouldn't be singin' about sinkin' boats while we're on a ship."

I laughed, and stopped dancing. We stayed in the position, but we were frozen. Never in my life had I felt so amazing. It was like we were the only two people in the world, but I'd never felt less lonely.

Suddenly his breath hitched, and he grabbed me by my shoulders to push me away slightly.

"What's that?" he asked sharply. His face was enraged.

"What?" I asked, startled.

He grabbed my forearm loosely, and held my arm up. He pointed with his other hand to my bicep. "That!" he exclaimed.

Throughout the events of the day my shawl had slipped, leaving my bruise exposed.

"Oh, it's nothing," I said flippantly. I went to pull the material back up over it, but he stopped me. He brushed his hand over the purplish skin, barely touching it, but fitting the shape of the bruise perfectly to the shape of his hand.

"Who did this?" he growled.

"I don't know what you mean," I said crisply, back away a step so that his arms fell back to his sides. "I…ran into my cabin door."

"Since when do doors have hands, Evie?" he asked angrily.

"Just leave it, Tommy!" I shouted. He searched my face, and comprehension dawned on it, quickly followed by outrage.

"Did your father do that to you?" he snarled.

"Tommy, calm down!" I cried. He took my evasion as a positive.

"That son of a bitch," he yelled, "put his hands on his own daughter?" I waved my arms widely, trying to shush him in case any people heard through the paper thin walls. He ignored me. "No man should put his hands on any woman, his wife and daughter particularly!"

I started to cry. "Tommy, stop!" I sobbed. He didn't seem to see me though. I'd never seen anyone this angry, ever.

"I'm going to kill him," he finally said, turning on his heel and marching towards the door to the corridor.

"No!" I screamed, running after him. His long legs made it difficult for me to catch up with him. I grabbed his arm, and pulled. He whipped around, and the full force of his enraged gaze hit me.

"Please stop," I whispered, tears still falling. I reached up and put my hand against his face, keeping my other one firmly against his wrist. His eyes closed, and I could sense the tension leave his posture. He pried his wrist from my grasp, and slid his hand into it instead.

"The only reason," he said clearly, "that he is not goin' ta get knocked out is because of you. That man should feel damn lucky ta have a daughter like ya."

His eyes opened, and he reached up with his unoccupied hand to wipe away the tears still on my face. "I'm sorry," he said earnestly.

"I understand," I responded. I did. If I thought someone was hurting him I would have been livid as well.

"If he ever puts his hands on ya again, promise you'll come ta me," he said fiercely, "so I can make sure he never thinks about doin' it another time."

"I promise," I said immediately, anything to keep him calm.

That seemed to placate him because the rest of the anger left his face.

I pulled my hand out of his, and brought my other hand to his face. I pulled him down to my level, and kissed him again, letting my lips linger for a few seconds. He sighed when I pulled away.

"Stay with me tonight," he begged out of nowhere. My face burned red immediately.

"That's…too inappropriate!" I gasped, trying to pull out of his grasp. He held on tighter.

"I didn't mean it like that," he said honestly. "I just want ta spend as much time with ya as I can."

"I want to," I admitted grudgingly, "but my father would be so angry. People might talk, and he would not-"

"Let them talk!" he yelled, purposefully trying to be heard through the walls.

I put my hand over his mouth, but I was laughing. "Shhh!"

He pulled my hand away, and smirked. "I won't shout again if ya agree ta stay with me tonight. Nothing…'scandalous'. Just stay with me."

I thought about it thoroughly before I made up my mind. "Not tonight," I said. "But one night before this ship docks, I'll stay with you. I promise."

He deliberated, but finally nodded. "I can live with that."

I sighed in relief. An angry Tommy was rather hard to handle. I put my arms around his waist and my head against his chest, and he hugged me back contentedly.

Before anything else could happen, the door to my room opened. I gasped in horror, pulling away from Tommy, and staring at the back of it as it opened with a creaking sound. I was hyperaware of Tommy, standing so close to me that I could feel the heat radiating off of him. Luckily, Rebecca came through the door instead of my father. However, the look on her face when she saw us made me nervous.

"Miss Evelyn!" she squealed, face burning red. "What is a man doing in your room?"

"Rebecca, calm down," I commanded. I turned to Tommy, who looked unsure. "This is Tommy Ryan. He's…the best flower in my field." I winked at her, but Tommy gave me a worried look, like he thought I was being incoherent.

"Evelyn!" Rebecca said, forgetting formality and sounding like a stern mother. "This is not suitable! He is not…you're engaged to Mr. Weston!"

I looked up at him, smiling despite the situation. "I think it's very suitable." I turned to her. "You were the one who told me to pick for love instead of position."

She made strangled sounds. "I only said it because I thought there wouldn't be anyone to pick! You're already engaged, and there shouldn't be any picking after that! Someone's done the picking for you! It's done!"

"Rebecca," I started, outraged, "you have to know how much I loathe him! He's arrogant, senseless, and cruel! I will not be with a man like that." I glanced at Tommy. "Especially when I have the most amazing man I'll ever need right here with me." He smiled affectionately, and took my hand.

Rebecca, who was very religious, took the crucifix necklace she wore from under her collar, and clutched it tightly. "I will not be around such ungodliness! You're breaking a commandment! Adultery! I won't take a part in this!" She turned tail, and nearly ran from the room, slamming the door behind her.

"That could'a gone better," Tommy said uncertainly. I just nodded, staring at the door she'd run from.

"Maybe you should go," I said. "I'll bring her back, talk to her…I can calm her down."

"Alright," he said. He leaned down, and kissed me quickly. "Will I see ya later?"

"I'll try to get away," I smiled. I kissed him again, and he left. I was over the moon with joy, but there was nagging anxiety in my chest from Rebecca's reaction and a feeling that I was forgetting something vital. I soon figured out the reason for both.

My door was jerked open, and slammed shut again. My father stood there in a towering rage, drawn up to his full height, eyes blazing, and mustache quivering.

"YOU HAD," he started out, screaming, "THAT THIRD CLASS PEASANT IN HERE?"

**"ANOTHER CLIFFHANGER?" Yes. Sorry. xP**

**Anyway, I'm only going to require three reviews for this one because I feel bad about making it so late when you guys are used to me updating so fast. So yeah...R E V I E W ! :D  
**


	7. All of the Stars Have Faded Away

**Sorry I'm late again! My damn internet wouldn't freaking work. Freaking...freaking...I don't even know what to call it!**

**Anyway, thanks for the reviews guys! :) I love every single one of you!**

**The song for this chapter is "Stop Crying Your Heart Out" by Oasis. Listen to it, and you'll thank me.  
**

**Once again, I shall address one reviewer. The rest of you can go about your business with the reading and whatnot.**

**Jessah82: So I was doing my usual "Tralalala, oh yay reviews! I'll read them! Yay, they like it! Oh no, they don't like it." thing when I got your review. I kept wondering why your username was so familiar, and then I realized: you wrote A Change of Tide. I had a slight fangirl moment because you liked it. I LOVE LOVE LOVE that story, and I am so glad you like mine! And music is really important to me too, and I blend it into almost everything I write (hence all of my oneshots). But anyway, the originality thing has been driving me crazy, but you're right. It's hard to make a story original when you have the same four day setting and only so many places for them to go. I do my best. (: I really appreciate your review! (If my mom wanted to read _my_ story, I would lose my mind, haha. I can't imagine her reading a sex scene that I'd written.)**

**I hope everyone enjoys this one, even though it's shorter than the others. :P  
**

_All of the Stars Have Faded Away_

I was frozen from fear, and was quite aware of the bruise on my arm from the last time my father was angry. Even then he wasn't this enraged. I'd never seen him this mad. Suddenly Tommy's temper from before seemed like a small bit of irritation.

"I'M HAVING A BRANDY WITH SOME OF THE MOST DIGNIFIED MEMBERS OF SOCIETY, AND WHAT DO I HEAR?" he thundered. "THAT YOU WERE WITH SOME TROLLOP BELOW DECK LAST NIGHT, DANCING INAPPROPRIATELY AND _DRINKING_! AS IF I WASN'T EMBARRASSED ENOUGH, WHEN I COME HERE TO CONFRONT YOU ABOUT YOUR BEHAVIOR, I FIND YOUR MAID IN A NEAR HYSTERICAL STATE SAYING YOU HAVE THAT SAME STEERAGE MAN IN YOUR BEDROOM!"

I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. I knew that anyone who might be walking by and the people in nearby rooms had to hear this. I think he was beyond caring, or just didn't notice how loud he was being because of how mad he was.

"DO YOU KNOW WHAT COULD HAPPEN IF WORD OF THIS REACHES THE WESTONS?" he bellowed. "THE WEDDING WOULD BE OFF, AND YOU COULD NEVER BE ELIGIBLE AGAIN! YOU'RE ONE OF THE MOST PRIZED AFTER GIRLS IN THE WORLD, BUT YOU'RE THROWING IT ALL AWAY FOR A FEW DAYS OF BEING A WHORE FOR A VAGABOND!"

After the insults towards Tommy, my temper exploded as well. I was seeing red, and the words tumbled out before I really got a chance to think about them.

"He is NOT a vagabond!" I shrieked. "Nor am I being a whore! As for never being eligible again, I'd be thrilled if I wasn't! That way you couldn't sell me off to keep up with appearances, and I could be with Tommy!"

His eyes bulged. "YOU WOULD GIVE UP YOUR ENTIRE LIFE FOR THIS MAN?"

"I WOULD GIVE UP ANYTHING FOR HIM!" I screamed with my voice now as loud as his.

"YOU FOOLISH CHILD! HE COULD NEVER PROVIDE FOR YOU! YOU'D END UP WORKING AS A SEAMSTRESS OR A CHAMBER MAID! ANY CHILDREN YOU WOULD HAVE WOULD BE UNEDUCATED WITH NO CHANCE AT THE SORT OF LIFE YOU'VE LIVED UP UNTIL NOW!"

"BUT I'D BE HAPPY, UNLIKE ALL THE YEARS BEFORE!" Tears started to pour down my face. "AND TOMMY WOULD BE HAPPY, AND I WOULD MAKE SURE OUR CHILDREN WERE NO MATTER WHAT! AND MY CHILDREN WON'T GROW UP SEEING HOW LITTLE THEIR PARENTS CARE FOR EACH OTHER, LIKE I DID! IF I CAN'T SEND THEM TO SCHOOL I'LL TEACH THEM THE ACTUAL VALUABLE THINGS IN LIFE INSTEAD OF THE ETIQUETTE, DANCING, AND OTHER USELESS BULLSHIT I WAS TAUGHT! I'LL MAKE SURE THEY KNOW THAT POSITION IS NOTHING COMPARED TO BEING A GOOD PERSON, AND LOVE IS WORTH GIVING UP EVERYTHING FOR!"

The flow of yelling stopped, and I stood there breathing hitched and my chest heaving. I was crying out of anger, and I felt near faint.

"What would your mother say?" he finally whispered. Those words, although I barely heard them, hit me harder than anything else he'd said, and I really thought about my reply before speaking.

"I think she'd be happy for me because I got the chance to fall in love and be happy, unlike she did. Tommy would never force my personality out of me, like you did to her."

His face fell, and the anger was gone. It was simply blank, like looking at a portrait instead of an actual human. "You're never to see him again, do you understand me?" he said robotically.

"I understand your words," I replied, crossing my arms, "but I will see him again."

His face set, and regret passed over it as he sat down heavily in one of the chairs in the room. I saw the falseness in it all though, and waited apprehensively for me to speak.

"You leave me no choice, Evelyn, love," he said quietly. He looked me dead in the eyes, and to my surprise, there were tears in them. "I'll let you go with him."

I went through so many emotions at once that I was entirely which one I was showing at that moment. It was probably a mixture of surprise and uncertainty. "You will?"

He nodded, and cleared his throat. His voice cracked when he did start to speak, "I don't want to, and I don't approve. I will break off all contact with you if you do leave, but I won't stop you. You have been right this whole time: it's your choice, and you're going to what you want no matter how much I threaten or yell at you. You're beyond that now."

I just stared at him. What kind of man calmly told his daughter he was going to disown her while crying? This was beyond the strangest situation I ever could have imagined.

"It will break my heart," he said. He stood, and walked towards me. I stayed stock still. "I do love you, Evelyn, no matter what you may think. I've always had your best interests at heart. Carlton may not be…the most interesting man, but he could give you a life. He could give you things that Ryan could never even dream about."

I could feel guilt trying to worm its way into my chest as I stood toe to toe with my father. I tried to push it away, but it wasn't working. He was actually close to tears over this. I always saw myself as my father's least favorite child, the liability. Had I been wrong about him my whole life?

"I don't care about those things," I said firmly. "All I want is Tommy."

"Really think about this decision!" he said. His hands came to rest on my shoulders, and I flinched, but it was gentle, unlike the last time. "Think about what you are doing! You say you want happiness for your children? Would they be happy if they couldn't eat? Will they be happy when they have no clothes or shoes? You would live with this man in a one room hut in the ghetto, and have much too many children to support when you can't even support yourselves. Do you want that, dear?"

I shook my head slowly, feeling my own tears building up. "No."

"Exactly!" he exclaimed, bending down to get at my eye level. "Your decision does not only affect you! Think about everyone else: me, your siblings, your mother, the Westons, and even this boy. Is love worth destroying so many lives?"

My whole heart screamed 'yes', but my head hesitated. I'd been selfish, and I saw it now. I was willing to give up my whole entire lifestyle for Tommy, but the reality of it was that I was being utterly foolish. Love couldn't build a house or make money or feed empty stomachs. With the absence of those things, I may even come to resent Tommy eventually. I could see it now, living in squalor, becoming more and more distant because we both came to know how stupid we'd been.

"I'll stay," I whispered, the first tear falling to the carpet at my feet.

My father smiled triumphantly. "You've made the right choice, my dear." When I continued to cry he put his hands on either side of my face, and gently kissed my forehead. "Now, now, darling, I know it seems tough now, but you will thank me one day. Now, get ready for dinner."

After he'd left the room, I just stood there sobbing into my hands. I felt unable to move. How could feelings like these only be expressed for one day before they were torn from your hands? Never did I imagine that I would fall in love on the Titanic only to have it ripped from me so soon after. There was a hole in my chest that couldn't be filled, and it was throbbing painfully.

I didn't hear my door open or close, but suddenly someone was holding my arm. "There, there, little one," Rebecca cooed. "It will be alright, you'll see."

My tears stopped abruptly at her voice. I stared at her furiously, unable to believe that she had the nerve to come back here after what she'd just caused. She smiled at me sympathetically, and spots exploded in my vision.

My hand lashed out before I could really consider what I was doing, and caught her hard on the cheek. She cried out, head turning violently to the side. She grasped her cheek, and turned her eyes back onto me, shocked. I could see the bright red handprint my slap had just placed on her cheek.

"Miss Evelyn!" she gasped, tears in her eyes. Her cheek was glowing pink.

"You dare to come back in here after what you just caused?" I said, voice dangerously quiet. "You dare to attempt to comfort me when you're the one who caused my pain?"

"It was wrong, what you were doing," she whispered.

I straightened up to my full height, and glared coldly down at her. "Consider yourself dismissed, Rebecca. I don't want you in my quarters for the rest of the journey, and I never want to catch a glimpse of you once we're off this ship."

She gasped, one tear falling from her blue eyes. "Miss Evelyn, I'm sorry! Please don't do this!"

"GET OUT OF MY SIGHT!" I screeched. Her eyes grew wide, more tears fell, and she ran from the room. I stared at the back of the door once she was gone, unable to comprehend the fact that I lost the two people I'd thought I was closest with within the course of about five minutes. Emptiness flowed through me, and I had no idea where to turn.

There was a soft knock on my door. I, thinking it was Rebecca, stomped over, and yanked it open. I was ready to yell until I caught sight of dark red hair.

Rose opened her mouth, but stopped when she saw my face. "Evelyn?" she asked quietly. "Are you alright?"

I broke down before her eyes, sobbing loudly into my hands while leaning against the doorframe.

She gasped, and quickly let herself into the room. She gently nudged me away from the door so that she could come in.

"Evelyn, what's happened?" she asked nervously, sitting me down on the couch, and taking my hands in her own.

"I went to Tommy," I choked out, wiping my face delicately on the back of my hand, "and I told him I'd changed my mind. We kissed, and it was like everything was right. I brought him back here, and we were dancing. My maid came in, and accused us of breaking the Commandments. I was so close with Rebecca; I never expected…," I took a deep, shuddering breath to attempt to calm myself. "She told my father he was in my room, just after he'd been told where I was last night." Rose gasped. "He told me I was wasting my life, and I told him I'd risk anything for Tommy. He said that our children would never be able to live like I have, and I told him I'd rather they lived in squalor than have them watch their parents participate in a marriage of convenience and believe love wasn't real, like I did. I told him he took away my mother's personality. He was so mad…and then he was crying to me, telling me that I was ruining everyone's lives."

"You are not!" Rose said, mouth open from shock, completely outraged.

I nodded. "I was, Rose. Imagine how poor we would be, living as immigrants in the poor houses. We wouldn't have enough food, and we'd most likely end up with about ten children we couldn't even feed. The Ismay reputation would have fallen hard, and the Westons would have made my families' lives a living hell." I started to cry again. "Tommy and I would have suffered from it all, and you know it wouldn't feel the same once we both realized how ridiculous it all was. All I want is for Tommy to be happy, even if that means we can't be together. So I told him my father I'd stop seeing him, and then he left. I fired Rebecca only a minute or so before you came in. I lost the two people in the world I thought I could always depend on!"

I threw myself face first into Rose's lap, bawling uncontrollably. She stroked my hair, and whispered, "Evelyn, I'm so sorry. I never imagined that this would happen."

I cried without stopping for another twenty minutes, but finally raised my head, hiccoughing and out of tears to shed. "I just love him so much, Rose," I whispered.

"I understand," she said honestly. She pulled a handkerchief from inside of her dress, and began to wipe my face off with it. "I know you feel like you've lost everyone, but I want you to know that I will be here for you, and you know Jack and Fabrizio would be as well, if they could manage it without your father knowing. I feel your pain."

I nodded, and attempted to smile. I assumed it looked more like I'd just eaten a lemon whole. "Thank you," I said gratefully.

She smiled, and stood up. "Now, come on. You have to go to dinner, I'm afraid. Since you no longer have a maid to help you dress, I'll do so."

I didn't want to go to dinner. I wanted to lay in bed and cry, or more preferably: write. I knew that any lateness though would be presumed as me seeing Tommy, so I followed her into my bedroom, thinking that I'd probably made good friends with the only ally I now had on this ship.

**Angsty, angst. Yes. x)**

**So...five reviews? That should _hopefully_ mean I'll have it out by tomorow. (: Thanks for reading!  
**


	8. You Shine Brighter than Anyone Does

**Two chapters in one day? Unheard of! But it's happening because my reviewers are so amazing that they pretty much ran my asked for amount into the ground before four hours were up! :D God, I love you guys. If I could, I would go to every single one of your houses and give you freshly baked muffins. That's how deep the love is.**

**Before I creep you out anymore, I just want to let anyone who wants to know that I'm just about ready to post a King Arthur story, LancelotOC. For anyone who's interested, it should be up somewhere between the next chapter or the one after. :)**

**The song for this chapter is "Brighter" by Paramore. **

**I hope you like it! (:  
**

_You Shine Brighter than Anyone Does_

I couldn't sleep that night. Thoughts raced through my head like angry bees, stinging repeatedly until I had a splitting headache. These strong feelings were entirely too much to cope with, and the emotional pain was excruciating. The faces of Tommy, Rebecca, my father, Rose, my mother when she was happy, and my mother when she was no longer herself chased themselves around in my dreams when I finally did sleep, making me wake before I'd gotten even three hours of rest. I felt close to my breaking point as I watched the sun rise from the window in my room.

I stood up and trudged to my armoire. I opened it, and searched for a dress that was simple to put on. I chose an eggplant one that simply slipped on without any of the difficult ties or buttons. When I'd come back to my room last night I'd been unable to take my corset off by myself, so I'd just worn it to sleep. I slipped the dress on over my head, and sat down to run a brush through my hair. I couldn't do much with it on my own, so I pulled half of it up, and braided it like a veil across the back of my head. I admired the effect, and deemed it suitable. I covered up the deep purplish bags under my eyes with makeup, and slipped on some purple heels over my stockings.

When I was done, I left my cabin to head to breakfast. When I reached the corridor, I realized it was much too early for breakfast. No one was even walking around yet. I had a few hours to kill, so I decided to walk the deck.

It was freezing outside, and I wished I'd brought a jacket. The long sleeves of the dress did next to nothing to warm me, and I wrapped my arms around myself. The sound of my heels touching the deck seemed to echo loudly in the silence, but the rhythmic sound of it soothed me slightly. I saw a burst of something out of the corner of my eye, and approached the railing to look out. It was a pod of dolphins, taking turns to jump in midair. I envied the dolphins then. They had nothing to worry about except food, mating, and finding out what this strange metal beast next to them was. What a simple life; no love, no pain…how I wished for it.

I squealed when a hand suddenly appeared on the railing next to me, followed quickly by a body that was climbing up over the railing on my left side.

"Shhh!" they hissed. "Don't scream!"

The person landed on their feet, and turned to me. My broken heart shattered again at the sight of him standing there. He seemed perfectly undaunted, grinning like a fool. I felt colder all of a sudden.

"I didn't know I'd see ya this early," he said happily. "Didn't think a girl like ya got up this early on a Sunday."

I just stared at him, unable to process any of my thoughts. He was standing right here in front of me, but he might as well have been miles away for all the good it did.

"Something the matter?" he asked, picking up on my mood. His forehead creased.

"You should go back to your deck," I told him lifelessly.

"Why would I do that when you're up here?" he said, smirking. He leaned down towards me, but I stepped back. He looked hurt. "Evie, what's wrong?"

"I can't be with you," I whispered, voice nearly lost in the loud winds. "I'm engaged to a good man, and I should never have led you on."

He looked dumbstruck, and rather like he'd been punched in the throat. "What are ya talkin' about 'a good man'? Ya hate the guy!"

I shook my head. "I will learn to love him in time. Go back to your deck, Tommy."

"What the hell is goin' on?" he asked loudly. "Ya weren't talkin' like this yesterday!"

"I made a mistake." I had thought of this moment many times since yesterday, and always pictured myself crying as I did it. But I was unable to cry, or do much of anything. I was empty, like someone had taken my organs and replaced them with air. I felt like any second I would float up in the sky and be lost.

"Ya think bein' with me is a mistake?" he snapped.

I couldn't breathe, so I just nodded solemnly. He drew in his breath in a fast hissing sound, and ran both hands through his hair. He looked like he was about to turn away until his eyes landed on my arm, and narrowed.

"So is he tellin' ya ta tell me ta get lost?" he asked.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I responded automatedly.

"Ya bloody well do!" he raged. "Why are ya listenin' to them again, Evie? Ya know how ya feel about me, and ya know that it's real! Don't let them tell ya what ta do!"

"Tommy," I said brokenly, his name burning my mouth, "I can't see you anymore. You don't understand." I glanced around at the deck, and then quickly back at him. "It's not safe for us."

"I don't remember this bein' a question of safety," he growled.

"Just believe me, you're better off getting off this ship and leaving me behind forever," I told him honestly. Before I could react he'd placed a hand on either side of my face, and was staring pleadingly into my eyes.

"I'd rather fall off the side of this ship now than get off it without ya," he said seriously.

"Don't make this harder than it already is," I begged, closing my eyes against the pain that looking at him caused me. "I can't."

"Why not?"

"You'll end up hating me if we stay together!" I hissed, eyes flying open. His hands fell away.

"What are ya talkin' about?"

"Think about it, Tommy. We'll have no money, no place to live, and slim chances of finding and keeping jobs. Don't you get it? It would destroy us, not being able to live comfortably. We would have children, and wouldn't be able to take care of them! I don't want to know what it's like to watch my own children starve to death, and know that it's my fault!"

"You're tellin' me that ya think we'd have no chance of even treadin' water if we got married?" he questioned. I nodded, but he shook his head. "We would have just as much a chance as any other immigrants who came here, and if they all ended up like that then the streets of America would be littered with bodies and beggars."

"It won't work, Tommy!" I snapped; feeling frustrated that he was dragging this out. I wanted a clean, swift break. "No feelings we have matter compared to the things that are out of our control." I looked him directly in the face. "I'm going now, back to where I belong. Go back down to your deck so you don't get arrested."

I turned around, and he yelled, "No, wait!" I hesitated. "I love ya." The empty hole in my chest burned excruciatingly. "I don't care who's after me, I just want ta be with ya."

"Stay away from me, Tommy," I said quietly. I took a few more steps before he spoke again.

"I'll be waitin' for ya," he called. "Whenever you come to your senses, I'll be there. I don't even care if it's in thirty years. I'll be waitin'."

I took a deep breath, and trudged on, feeling a sick satisfaction that I was keeping him safe but an agonizing want that ached for me to turn back around.

/\/\/\/\/\

I ate nothing at breakfast, just like I had last night at dinner. I shoved my food around my plate, playing with it, and paying no attention to my surroundings. My father's air of smug triumph hung around me like a curtain that I couldn't escape, and Tommy's last words to me echoed loudly in my ears.

Why didn't I tell him I loved him back?

After breakfast we headed to the small chapel where Sunday mass would be held. I was in the front row, between my father and Sir Duff Gordon. I sang along at all the right times, said all the right responses, and all the right gestures, but my heart wasn't in it. I'd never been religious. Now that I'd had everything taken from me, I was even less willing to believe in any sort of divine deity.

After mass, I was allowed to my own devices while my father checked up on some things. I felt it showed just how confident he was in my resolve that he was willing to leave me alone so soon after our confrontation. I had no idea what to do with my free time though. What had I done before? Read books mostly, but all I had with me were romances. I didn't want to read about two other people falling in love when I myself could never talk to the man I loved again. What else could I do? Work on wedding plans? I almost laughed out loud to myself at the thought.

I could write. I've always used my emotions to channel a good story onto paper, and my writing was just bad if I didn't write when I was feeling a strong emotion. But for some reason I didn't want to get these feelings out in the open. I wanted to let them sit in my chest and fester because I felt like I deserved the pain.

I was heading back to my room to simply lie in bed until lunch when Rose, her mother, and Cal approached.

"Hello, Evelyn," Ruth greeted me. "How are you this morning?"

"Lovely," I said dryly, not bothering to work up a fake smile.

Ruth and Cal seemed taken aback, but Rose, who knew what was wrong, quickly intervened. "We were heading to see Mr. Andrews. He's going to give us a tour of the ship. I know you've already had one, but would you like to accompany us?"

She smiled kindly, and I knew she was trying to give me something to occupy my time. I managed a smile back.

"I wouldn't want to impose," I replied, as was polite.

"Nonsense!" said Cal cockily. He reminded me of my father, so I frowned at him. "If Rose wants you to come, you must join us!"

"Well, if I'm not a bother," I said quickly. They shook their heads, and I joined them on their walk.

"Good morning!" Mr. Andrews greeted us at one of the exits to the decks. "Ah, I see Miss Ismay will be joining us!"

I smiled politely, but it didn't reach my eyes. "Yes, sir, if that's not any trouble."

"None at all," he said friendlily. "I thought we could start at the steering room. Come on then."

He led us across the ship, talking proudly the whole time about the crowning jewel of his career. His tour was much more informative than my father's, and I actually paid attention to the interesting things he told us while we walked. Ruth asked curious questions, and Mr. Andrews never faltered on answering them.

Rose pulled me back just before we approached the steering room, so we were at the back of the group. "Are you doing alright?" she whispered, so no one else would hear us.

I shook my head. "No," I admitted shamelessly, "but I will be. I just need to…get my mind off of it."

She nodded knowingly, and we sped up to catch up with them. We talked to the captain, but while we were with him a man came up and handed him an iceberg warning.

"Oh, not to worry," he assured us at Ruth's nervous expression. He waved the note like it was nothing. "Quite normal for this time of year." Ruth looked relieved. "In fact, we're speeding up. I've just ordered the last boilers lit."

He smiled proudly at us, but I felt my stomach clench. If we were going as fast as possible, we would be in New York before we were scheduled to be. That meant more time with my fiancé, and less time knowing Tommy was close. I felt nauseous at the very thought.

The rest of the tour blurred by, my mind clouded with thoughts of Tommy and wondering what he was doing at the moment. In the back of my mind I heard Mr. Andrews, Rose, Ruth, and Cal talking about lifeboats, but I didn't really process it. I was walking next to Rose at the back of the crowd when suddenly a man in a black coat and a bowler hat grabbed her shoulder. I was shocked to see that it was Jack, beckoning her to a room to our right. She glanced questioningly at me, and I gestured at her to go. She did so, and I hung back to wait for her to come out.

I watched the water while I waited, turning my head different ways to admire the effects of the sunlight glinting off of it. I thought once again of the dolphins, and how much I would like to live on instincts alone instead of letting emotions get in the way. Oh, the joys of not being human.

The door to the room Rose and Jack were in opened, and Rose emerged looking disgruntled.

"What happened?" I asked her quietly as we walked hurriedly to catch up with our group.

"I had to tell him it couldn't work," she admitted. Being as close with her as I was now, I could hear the thing she wasn't letting through and I knew it was killing her like not seeing Tommy was me.

"I'm sorry," I said sympathetically.

She just shook her head, and we got back to the group before they even noticed that we'd left them.

/\/\/\/\/\

When the tour was over, Ruth invited me to tea with her, Rose, the Countess, and Lady Duff Gordon. I agreed, just for something mindless to concentrate my mind on, and we met with the other ladies before claiming a table.

The conversation of weddings was immediately struck up, which was to be expected with two of the women at the table being engaged. Ruth took over; as she had the tendency to do, and ranted about the problems they'd had so far with the planning. I sipped my tea, staring with unfocused eyes at whoever was talking while really considering jumping off the bow of the ship like Rose had attempted that day. It was much more tempting than it should have been.

I withdrew myself from my thoughts long enough to look at Rose. She was staring off into space like I had been, and her face was drawn. I followed her line of sight to a different table where a little girl sat with her mother. As I watched, the mother roughly grabbed her shoulder to force her to sit up straight. Her mother snapped something at her, and the girl placed her napkin properly into her lap, and unfolded it delicately. It was one of the most revolting things I'd ever seen. Why did these people brainwash their children the second they learned to talk? There was no humanity, and it was disgusting that we, their children, had to suffer for their appearance.

Something had to be done. I nudged Rose with the corner of my shoe, and she looked around. I mouthed, "Go to him."

She just stared at me. "You know you want to," I whispered so quietly that the other chatting ladies didn't hear. "Go."

"What about you?" she mouthed back.

"I don't have a chance anymore. You do. Take it."

A smile lit up her face, and she looked less like a doll, as she always did. She turned to her mother.

"Mother, I'm feeling ill," she said, grimacing appropriately. "I think I might go and lie down before dinner, so that I can rest."

"Certainly, darling," Ruth replied, not even glancing at her daughter.

Rose stood, but leaned back down to quickly whisper in my ear, "Thank you!"

I watched her go, and stared at the door she left from awhile after she was gone. I knew she would never again return to this life. Even though this stage was over, a whole world was opening to her, one I'd been forced to slam the door on. It was cruel, but for the second I knew I'd been helping her, I'd been able to relocate my heart.

"Ladies, I apologize, but I must go find my father." I didn't wait for them to reply, I just left.

As I walked, I could feel some sort of hysteria bubbling up in my chest. I pushed it down, knowing that I couldn't just explode on the deck for no apparent reason. I quickened my pace.

I returned to my room, and stood leaning against the closed door once I was there. I surveyed the room around me: it was…perfect, too much so. Ever since I was small, everything in my life had to be absolutely flawless: my hair, my clothes, my friends, the places I stayed, the jewelry I wore, the places I shopped, and eventually my husband and future. Nothing could have even a tiny problem for the public to see or it wasn't suitable.

As I stared around at this room, I realized I was finished with perfection. I wanted no part in it.

I walked up to a chair sitting against the wall, and kicked it flat onto its side. The clunk it made against the floor satisfied me immensely. I strode to the couch, grabbed it by its end and flipped it over. BANG!

I rushed around the rest of the room, upturning furniture, throwing things off the tables, and wreaking as much havoc as possible. When the sitting room was destroyed I moved onto my bedroom. I tore the blankets from the beds, and left them half hanging away from the mattress. I threw the pillows in all different directions, and I ripped the curtains off the windows. I threw open my armoire, and threw all of my dresses onto the floor. I opened every hat and shoe box, and kicked them away from me. One of them hit the lone plant in the room, overturning it so that dirt spilled everywhere. I turned around, and caught sight of myself in the mirror.

I hadn't realized how insanely I'd been smiling until that moment, and my smile just grew when I noticed it. I observed myself, still in my eggplant dress, my hair still braided excellently. My smile fell. Nothing on me was out of place…that just wouldn't do.

I took the earrings from my ears, and threw them behind me. I ripped off the necklace, and did the same. The gold bracelet was next, and then I kicked off my shoes. I lifted my dress up, and pulled my stockings off. I threw them over my head, and saw them land over the top of the canopy on my bed. I slipped the top of my dress off my shoulders, and it fell to the ground. I glared at the corset in the mirror. I stomped out to the sitting room and picked up the letter opener I'd thrown earlier. I slipped it underneath the strings on the wretched thing, and slit it all the way up. It fell away, and my breathing came out much more evenly.

I ran back to my bedroom, and yanked the pins holding my braid out of my hair, unraveling the braid as they went. I picked the sleeve of the dress I'd been wearing off the floor, and used it to wipe my makeup off. I was complete.

I gazed at the finished product in my mirror, my head cocked slightly to the side. My hair was wavy in a weird way, like it wanted to be curly in the front but not in the back. I still had the bags under my eyes, and my breasts looked smaller without the corset. I had a rather plain face, and my feet were too big. When I smiled I had two ugly lines in my forehead, and my thighs were too largely proportioned for the rest of my body. I had short fingers, and I was as thin as a twig. And the biggest thing: my eyes were the creepiest color eyes could be. But at that moment, standing in front of the mirror after I'd just purposefully tried to make myself ugly, I'd never seen myself look more beautiful. I had many flaws, yes, but I wouldn't be me without them. I stared at my eyes, and saw just how yellow they looked in the sunlight. All of the women around me spent so much time telling me they were ugly that I'd just believed them. I'd failed to notice how unique and pretty they really were. One person had noticed what I hadn't though…

Tommy. He was imperfect. He didn't have much money, a home, or a job. All of his clothes were messed up in some way or another, and he smoked and drank. But wasn't that exactly what made him so absolutely perfect to me; that he was himself?

My father was right on one count: it would be hard for us. There would be no room for any luxury, which I was used to. But those stupid little things that used to make me happy would be replaced easily: with Tommy. He made me happier than anything money could buy. I knew it might end up the way my father said, but I need to try. I couldn't live in regret forever.

"I made a mistake," I said to my reflection. I whipped around, and began to search through the pile of dresses on the floor. I finally found the one I wanted: long-sleeved; a pale yellow with a covering of white lace, and it had a corset-sort of tie of white ribbon in the front that I could lace up myself. I put it on quickly, and added a pair of low white heels. I brushed my hair, but left it down. I stared around the room for a few seconds. I was never coming back here.

I ran from the room, not bothering to shut the door behind me. Some man and woman I'd seen my father talk to saw me, and made disapproving noises. I ignored them as I continued to dash across the ship. I took stairs after stairs after stairs, avoiding the elevators in case I saw someone who tried to talk to me. I couldn't have any delays right now.

It occurred to me once I was on E Deck that I had absolutely no idea where his room was. I looked around, as if hoping to see signposts that would tell me where it was. Naturally, there were none.

"Dammit!" I cursed angrily. There was something thrilling about cursing in public. I heard footsteps to my right, and peered down the passage. Isaac, the man Tommy had introduced me to, was there, whistling while he strolled with his hands in his pockets.

"Isaac!" I called happily. His eyes snapped from the floor onto me, and his eyebrows rose.

"Evelyn, right?" he asked. I nodded, jogging towards him. "Surprised to see you down here."

"Where's Tommy?" I asked, skipping the pleasantries.

"In our room," he responded unhelpfully.

"Where's your room?" I asked hastily.

He pointed over his shoulder. "One left turn and one right back that way, number 19."

"Thank you!" I said, already running down the hall.

I took a left, ran to the end, and took a right. The numbers blurred by me, 11…13…15…17…

I stopped abruptly, and stared at the plain white door with the number on it. Once I knocked on that door, I gave up any chance of ever getting back into my father's good graces.

I knocked without a second thought. The door opened seconds later. Tommy stood there; wearing exactly what he had been earlier minus the coat and shoes. Before he could even register my presence, I launched into speech.

"I was wrong," I admitted breathlessly. "Everything I've ever known is wrong. All of this class stuff is a load of bull that's made up by these people to make themselves feel important. All my life I've been told I had to be perfect, and everything has been out of my control. But I realized that perfection actually lies in your imperfections and the eye of the beholder. For instance, you're perfect to me even though to everyone around me you're just a poor third class man. My fiancé is a bastard, and I'd rather live in poverty with you for the rest of my life than be rich with him for one day. Every other person I know pales in comparison to you. And you were right, we can try. I can't live every day wondering where you are and if you're happy, so I'll make sure you are myself. I love you, and I want to stay with you."

He blinked rapidly in procession, and if I counted right it was 36 times before he spoke.

"Did ya just say 'bastard'?" he asked bewilderedly. I nodded. He suddenly laughed loudly, and when he finally stopped, he opened his arms. "I told ya I'd be waitin'…and I am."

I jumped into his arms, and my lips landed on his. My heart came back full force, beating like a race horse, and all of the empty spaces I'd been feeling suddenly filled rapidly again. I could feel the blood pumping in my veins, and my head was making whooshing noises.

I pulled away from his lips, and pushed him into his room, kicking the door shut behind me. I looked around. He was right…the room was the size of my closet. It was jammed with a small water basin, a dresser, and two sets of bunk beds on either wall. I could hear a distant hum that seemed to even make the floor vibrate slightly. I realized it was the engines, not far beneath our feet. It was empty right now, except for the two of us.

"Which one's yours?" I asked, gesturing to the beds. He pointed to the bottom one on the left side of the room.

"It's not much," he said quickly, "but we can squeeze you in here until we get to New York."

I shook my head. "It's a thousand times better than my old room."

He smiled, and we were kissing again. It became more intense, and when he opened my mouth with his I didn't protest. I'd never kissed like that before, and it made my whole body feel like it was on fire. When I started to unbutton his shirt, he pushed me away from him easily.

"Ya don't want ta do that now," he said gently.

"Are you going to be another person telling me what I want and don't want in my life, Tommy?" I asked sadly. "If you are, I can just go right back to where I came from."

He sighed, and just looked at me. "Only if you're a hundred percent positive…"

I smiled slyly at him, and tugged the ribbon on the front of my dress. It fell away like I'd unraveled the fabric. His eyes roamed down my body which was covered only in my undergarments, and he flushed delicately.

"I'm positive," I assured him in a whisper. He swallowed loudly.

"I don't know about this," he said again, voice cracking violently on the last word.

I just nudged him gently onto the bed. "Tommy, I love you, no ifs, ands, or buts. I always will. You're the only man in the world I would do this with. I am more than a hundred percent positive."

He pondered, but finally reached his hand up to tangle it in my hair. "I love ya back," he said quietly, finally pulling me down to meet his lips.

**I wish I could write sex scenes. They always come out weird...**

**Anyway, how about six reviews until the next chapter? Please? I offer my love in return. :)**


	9. You're Way too Beautiful to Hurt

**Sorry about the wait everyone! Virus troubles. :\ I should be getting a Mac in three days, so that should stop! :D**

**I have something to clear up for anyone that was confused: Bruce doesn't really care much about Evelyn. He manipulated her so that she would do what he wanted. He knew she wasn't the type of person to fall to threats (not anymore, at least), so he used her sympathetic tendencies against her. Most of you got it, but some others got lost in translation, haha.**

**dEnIsE tHe StRaNgE:**** LOL! He really does deserve the douche bag award. There wasn't even any competition. "You don't know how to appreciate where you are unless the journey getting there was challenging." You are a wise woman, my friend. :)**

**Jessah82: ****I'm glad you liked the chapters! :D Lol, sorry I disappeared and left everyone in suspense! It wasn't my salivary thing (thank god), it was just a virus on my laptop. It wouldn't let me on the internet. -.- So I got a lot of writing done without Tumblr to distract me, which is the bright side! I was actually going to focus on another project I was doing instead of my Officer Lowe story, but I saw your review, and I changed my mind. I'll be finishing it now because your review made me feel all "Aww, SHUCKS!" Haha. I was actually thinking about writing it so that his roommates barged in so they couldn't do anything "innapropriate", but then I decided nahhh, I'll let them have their moment. And I have to say that you are my new official FFnet best friend, hahaha. :D**

**The song for this is "Heartbeat" by Stereo Skyline. They're AAAAAAMAAAAAZING, but they're pretty unknown. Listen to them! (Christ, I'm like an advertiser.)**

**Anyway, I appreciate all of the reviews, and I'm going to try to update wayyyy faster since we've almost made it to the sinking and my computer problems should go away when I get my new one. Enjoy, my loves!**

_You're Way too Beautiful to Hurt_

My eyes were closed even though I was wide awake. I was lying on my stomach in Tommy's bed, wearing absolutely nothing, and had the thin sheet pulled down to my hips to reveal my back. His pillow smelled just like he did, and I was inhaling the scent pleasantly. Tommy's hand trailed from the back of my neck all the way down to the sheet and back again, sending tingles throughout my whole body. I felt strangely…loose, like my joints had extended or something along those lines. It was fantastic.

My mind replayed the time I'd spent with him since I'd come to his room, and I smiled subconsciously. When Rebecca had explained the process to me, she had never informed me of just how pleasurable it would be.

"What are ya smilin' about?" His voice broke through my reverie, and my eyes opened. Tommy was on my left, on his side and turned towards me. He had one arm propping up his head, and the other still stroking my back. I observed his upper body yet again, and felt the heat rise in my face. He was muscular, but not overly so, like Carlton was. The toning of his body was more subtle, only noticeable when he moved. His arms had clear definition, and his stomach was perfect.

I rolled over to face him, and I saw his eyes dart down to my exposed breasts. I smiled, deciding not to call him out on it. I took the hand that had been on my back, and played with the fingers easily. "I was thinking," I answered simply, weaving his fingers around my own.

"About what?" he asked, now watching our fingers move together.

I kissed the center of his palm, and then looked at his face. "You."

He leaned forward to kiss my forehead. "What about me?" he asked, slowly shifting us so that I was on my back and he was hovering over me.

"I was thinking that I can't believe that I ever thought of settling for my life when I had you right in front of me," I replied. He had settled himself on top of me, between my legs, supporting his weight on his arms. I blushed crimson at the feeling of every inch of his skin touching mine.

He kissed my neck gently, and whispered against my skin, "That doesn't matter anymore. You changed your mind." I nodded, paying less attention to his words than I was to his lips, which were travelling around my collar bone. "I love ya."

"I love you too," I said back. He pulled away from my neck, and I frowned in result.

"Don't say 'I love you too'," he said. "It sounds like you're only sayin' it because I did."

I smile faintly. "Okay. I love you, and I'm not just saying it because you did."

He leaned down and kissed me on the lips. One of my hands came up to tangle in his mass of curls, and I smiled against his lips.

Suddenly the door to his room burst open. I shrieked in surprise, Tommy rolled off of me, and I yanked the covers up over my head to hide myself.

"Whoa," the intruder said appreciatively.

"Get the hell out!" Tommy yelled at whoever had intruded upon us.

"Sorry," the guy who I now realized was Isaac said. "I didn't know she was looking for you to do _that_." The door slammed shut.

I burst out laughing, tossing the covers off of my face. Tommy stared at me with an eyebrow raised, but I just dug my face into his arm and continued to laugh.

"What's so funny?" he asked dubiously.

I just shook my head, pulling back to stare at his face. "I can't believe two guys have seen me naked in the same day."

Suddenly he was glaring. "He better not have seen anythin'. I'll beat the memory right back on out of him."

I giggled. "You're so tough and masculine. It's adorable."

"Never thought I'd hear those two sentences together," he said gruffly.

I just smile dup at him, unable to stop doing so. "Do you want to take a walk?" I asked on a whim.

"Do ya have ta put clothes on for that?" he asked cheekily.

"It might be potentially problematic if I don't," I replied.

"I don't see a problem in it at all."

"Other men would see me," I pointed out.

"Yeah, you're right. Put some clothes on."

/\/\/\/\/\

I twirled out of the door to the deck around the bow, the bottom of my dress fanning out as I did so. I was on cloud nine, and for the first time I could express that without getting reprimanded. Tommy took my hand, spun me around, and then dipped me. I laughed as he pulled me back up, and then I ran to the railing, peering over at the water. It was dark out now, but the water just next to the boat below me was illuminated in the light from the ship.

Tommy came up behind me, putting a hand on the rail on either side of me. I looked out over the near black water, the beautiful array of stars, and listened to Tommy's breath behind me.

"We'll be getting' off this boat in three days," he said casually.

I nodded. "Yes."

"I'll be going ta Pennsylvania," he tried again, "and you're supposed ta be goin' ta Virginia." I contemplated where he was going with this, no longer smiling, but biting my lip instead. "I need ta say," he turned me around so that my back was to the ocean, "that I understand it might be hard for ya, givin' up the life you've had so far. I know it would be hard for ya, not havin' a lot of money, and not livin' in a big house or havin' nice things anymore. I know I can't really compete with that Weston guy, but…I love ya, and I want ya to get off this ship with me."

I put my hand on his cheek. "Did you think there was any competition between you and Carlton?" I asked. His face fell. "Carlton could give me anything I ever want and I wouldn't have to work a day in my life, but…he doesn't even hold a candle to you, Tommy. Even if I had ever felt anything besides hate for Carlton, it could never compare to how I feel for you. I love you, and I would have followed you off this boat even if you didn't want me there."

His face lit up, and suddenly he picked me up in his arms, and spun me. I squealed with laughter, clutching onto his shoulders. He set me back down, and I just shook my head in amusement.

"I never imagined I'd do anything so crazy," I admitted.

"I never thought a girl could make me so sentimental," he grumbled. I just pecked him on the lips in reply.

I hummed the song he'd sung to me when we danced, and felt like nothing could hurt me. I was invincible when I was with him, and I was going to make sure I always felt like that.

I happened to look over his shoulder, and gasped loudly. I stepped out of his way and pointed up to the sky.

"ARIES!" I screeched excitedly.

"What?" Tommy asked blankly.

"The constellation!" I explained hastily. "Aries otherwise known as the ram! I've never seen it so clear! Then again, it is that time of year." I smiled at his blank expression. "It's one of the twelve signs of the zodiac. Do you see the one next to it, right there? That's Perseus, named after the demi-god son of Zeus who killed the kraken."

"I have no idea what yer saying," he admitted shamelessly.

"Sorry," I laughed. "I've always been really into astronomy and astrology, and that sort of stuff. The stars have always fascinated me, and I used to read books upon books about all of the mythology surrounding it all."

"I didn't know that." I turned to look at him, and saw how affectionately he was staring at me.

"What's that look for?" I asked.

"Yer just so…," he trailed off, seeming unable to find the words.

"Odd?" I finished jokingly.

He shook his head. "No, that wasn't where I was going with that. I was thinkin' more along the lines of 'cute'."

He never failed to make me blush. I looked away when I did so, but he reached out and turned my face back. "You still turn away when you're embarrassed," he observed.

"Well, you keep embarrassing me!" I scoffed.

"Well, ya keep being yerself!" he said back.

Our lips met in the space between us, and I was so caught up in the kiss that I didn't hear the approaching voices or notice the livid look that was directed towards me when Tommy and I were spotted by the intruders.

"EVELYN!" someone roared. I broke away from Tommy, and saw my father striding towards me with a look that could murder. "I TOLD YOU WHAT WAS GOING TO HAPPEN IF YOU EVER SAW HIM AGAIN!"

He'd been with Mr. and Mrs. Astor, Ruth and Cal, and Mr. Andrews. They all watched in shock as he stomped across the deck. When he was about eight feet away Tommy broke out of his shock, and stepped in front of me to shield me from my father. It stopped him in his tracks.

"Who the hell do you think you are?" my father yelled at Tommy, whom I was peering around. "She's my goddamn daughter, get out of the way!"

"Bruce, calm down," said Mr. Andrews with forced serenity, attempting to diffuse the situation.

He whirled around to face him. "CALM DOWN? MY DAUGHTER IS DELIBERATELY DOING WHAT I TOLD HER NOT TO, AND YOU WANT ME TO CALM DOWN?"

The rest of the group looked scandalized, but Ruth and Madeleine looked like they were already dying to spread this newest piece of juicy gossip. The only reason they weren't running off now to tell people was most likely because the drama was not yet over. Mr. Andrews was the only one who seemed genuinely concerned about all of this.

"This is a family issue," Mr. Andrews said calmly. "It's best to be settled back in your cabin, just the two of you."

"I'm not bloody leavin' him alone with her!" Tommy said suddenly.

"I beg your pardon!" Bruce bellowed, outraged.

"You heard me!" Tommy yelled. "She's not goin' anywhere alone with the likes of you!"

"She is _my _daughter, and I'll be alone with her if I wish!"

"I'M NOT LETTIN' YA PUT ANOTHER DAMN BRUISE ON HER!" Tommy shouted, finally losing his short temper.

That caused a shocked silence that passed through the group like a frigid wind. The amount of scandal in this short encounter was reaching breaking point.

"I don't know what you're talking about!" Father responded indignantly.

"Oh yes, ya do!" Tommy said shakily. "Yer not comin' anywhere near her if ya want to keep yer nose the shape it is!"

My father bristled at the threat, but I stepped out from behind Tommy and faced him.

"Calm down," I said soothingly, putting both hands on his chest. His eyes remained on my father, nostrils flared, and refusing to back down. "Tommy, let me handle it." His eyes darted three times between my father and me, but he finally nodded. I turned towards my father.

"We never got along," I started, ignoring everyone and focusing only on him. "Even when I was little you were apathetic towards me. I had my mother though, and she was always there. After years of you trying to mold her to whom you wanted her to be, you succeeded. She's cold, distant, and she paid as much attention to her children as you always did. For my whole life, I've been letting you do the same to me. You've been stamping my personality out like a rowdy fire ever since I can remember, and the final step would have been marrying me off to Carlton Weston."

Tears had sprouted in my eyes, and I wiped them away roughly. A hand slipped into mine, and I clutched it tightly, knowing it was Tommy. "I don't want to be a bargaining chip anymore! I want to live my own life, and make do for myself." I turned around to look at Tommy, and then back at my father. "I did what mum never had the courage to do: I fell in love, and I found an escape in that. You can try to make me give it up now, but it would be too late. I know what other choices are out there for me, and eventually I'm going to make my own. I've made one already: I'm choosing to get off this ship with Tommy. It's your turn now, to choose. You can either let me go and acknowledge that I can make my own way, or you can try to force me back under your thumb and face the consequences."

Everyone had listened in stone cold silence to my speech, but my father seemed the most stunned. I don't think he ever planned on me, out of all of his children to rebel, most likely because I was most like my mother. Now that he'd lost his most faithful, he was lost. Finally he adjusted his coat, fixed his gloves, and stared at me like he'd never seen me.

"You are not my daughter," he whispered coldly, annunciating each word with care. He turned on his heel, and strode away. The others watched me watch him, trying to decide the best way to walk out of this situation. Finally they all just scurried away, except for Mr. Andrews. He caught my eye, and nodded in a proud way. I smiled at him, and then he was gone to.

Tommy used the hand that he was already holding to spin me around and pull me into him.

"Ya alright?" he asked worriedly, kissing my temple.

I nodded. "That was harder than I thought it would be, but…," I burst out laughing, and was nearly unable to get the last words out, "I'M FREE!"

I detached myself from his arms, and danced by myself in front of him, twirling and skipping around. He watched with a look of surprised confusion.

"Yer…yer gettin' off the boat with me," he muttered dazedly.

I stopped dancing, and grabbed both of his hands. "Yes."

"Yer goin' ta come ta Pennsylvania with me, and stay with me while I get a job."

I nodded more vigorously. "Yes!"

"I can't believe it…," he mumbled. And then he was beaming, and we captured each other's lips greedily, both of our thoughts already back on the bed awaiting us in Tommy's cabin.

**I love me some fights and romance. Mhm. **

**Only four reviews for this one? Please & thank you. (:**

**LOVE TO EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU. (This is where I would put a less than three if it were allowed, but it isn't, so I won't. Just know that I wanted to put a heart there. Yup.)**


	10. You Love Me, I Love You Harder

**So I got my new computer! I promise now: absolutely NO MORE delays in chapters! We're at the sinking now, so I can't allow you to be kept in suspense. ;) **

**There was a few mistakes in the last chapter. :O No one noticed them, but they've been fixed, so it's okay! :D **

**oxkatizzlexo:**** No need to feel lame, haha. I have a lot of reviewers that just rant on, and that's okay. It's amusing. :) I'm glad you like it, but I'm not really worth "beautiful" or "speechless". I'm just an idea machine that has grammar OCD. :D I hope you like this chapter!**

**Jessah82: Lol, I'm glad you can picture him saying all of that! I want to keep him in character, but I'm pretty sure I strayed a bit, for romantic scene purposes. :P And the lack of good Lowe fics is a serious problem. I'm hoping I can be of help with that. I have like three chapters written, but I'm going a bit slower than usual because I'm writing about four different things rights now. :( But I'll get it up as soon as I possibly can!**

**The song for this is "6 Months" by Hey Monday. The only way I can describe the song is pretty, haha. **

**On to the sinking, my darlings.  
**

_You Love Me, I Love You Harder_

I was once again in Tommy's bed, wearing a large shirt of his in place of my nightclothes. I was starting to regret not packing some things from my room, but at the same time I wanted everything from that life to be kept far away from me.

All of his roommates were snoring, sound asleep in their beds. His hand was tangled in my hair, and I was fiddling idly with one of the buttons on the shirt.

"Tommy?" I asked quietly, trying not to wake his roommates. He grunted sleepily in reply. "Have you ever been in love before now?"

He shifted a little closer to me, and said, "I think I might have loved a girl once, but compared ta ya it's like we might as well have been strangers."

I smiled in the darkness, feeling slightly triumphant. I had stolen his heart like no other girl had been able to. I snuggled closer to him.

I realized something was off, but couldn't quite place my finger on it. Tommy's breathing had deepened and he was in a light sleep, so I didn't want to wake him. The more I focused on it, it was like something was missing…what was it?

It clicked in place, and I realized the constant hum of the engines almost directly beneath us had stopped. In my previous room it had been inaudible, but this close to the bottom of the ship it was quite noticeable most of the time. Did that mean we'd stopped?

I was about to rouse Tommy to ask him if it was bad when the boat shuddered violently, followed by the shrieking sound of ripping metal. It felt like an earthquake was ripping through the boat.

Tommy sat bolt upright, and I clutched to his arm. It stopped just as suddenly as it had started, but I was rather shaken. All of Tommy's roommates were awake now, and Isaac was letting out a string of curses that no man in the first class would have ever uttered around a female. The other two were speaking in fluent Arabic to one another.

"Tommy, what was it?" I gasped.

"I don't know," he said. He rolled over me, and opened the door to the room. He peered out for a second, and then shut it.

"D'ya know what it was?" he asked Isaac.

"It sounded like we hit something," Isaac said. He leapt off the top bunk, and looked out the window, shifting his head to see all sides. "Don't see anything."

Tommy sat back down on the side of the bed next to me, but he still seemed uneasy. Suddenly he sat up, alert.

"SHUT UP!" he commanded. His two other roommates couldn't speak English, but it was clear what the intention was. I could hear it too…rippling water?

"Fuck!" Isaac gasped at the same time that I squealed. Water was pouring in from under the door.

Tommy grabbed my dress off the floor just before the water touched it, and gave it to me. He was up in a second, gathering his things. Isaac and the Arabic men did the same. The men weren't paying attention to me (I probably wouldn't have cared much if they did at that point), and I pulled Tommy's shirt off and yanked my dress over my head. I laced it up with shaking fingers, my feet ice cold in the water that had already made a shallow puddle on the floor. I thanked god that I'd worn my shortest pair of heels.

"Here," Tommy said, he held out his black coat for me, and I took it, shoving my arms in quickly. His scent wafted over me like a wave. He had shoved a pair of pants and shoes on, and was holding a shirt ready to wear. "Do ya want ta get anything from your room?"

I shook my head, so he grabbed my hand and pulled me into the panicked corridor.

"The deck is that way!" I yelled, gesturing behind us.

"We're gettin' Fabrizio and Jack," he replied.

"Jack will be with Rose." He just nodded. He had a determined look on his face, and it scared me more than the water covering the floor did. He was practically choking the life out of my hand, and we were jogging down the corridors.

When we turned down the one that held Jack and Fabrizio's room, Fabrizio happened to step outside, looking sleep disheveled and confused.

"Come on; let's get the hell outta here!" Tommy yelled to him. Fabrizio turned back into the room, shoving aside his large roommates. "Come on; hurry up!"

I recognized one of Fabrizio's roommates as the Swedish man who'd arm-wrestled Tommy at the party, and smirked at me in a way I didn't like. He didn't even glance at me now, just yelled in a harsh voice at his friend as they collected their things.

Tommy kept glancing back down the corridor at where the water was flowing from, looking extremely nervous. He looked at me, and I figured my face must have unnerved him because he yelled, "Dammit, Fabrizio, we don't have a lot o' time!"

Fabrizio emerged a second later, fully dressed and holding a large backpack. Tommy nodded to him, and took off in the direction where there was not yet water. We ended up leading a crowd of people. We turned a corner, and saw a bunch of rats running down it. Tommy followed it quickly, the water sloshing at our heels. He let go of my hand to wrench his shirt over his head.

"Tommy, do you know where we're going?" I asked timidly.

He replied, adjusting his shirts, "If this is the direction the rats are goin', that's good enough for me." I just nodded, and he reclaimed my hand.

We followed the rats for as long as possible, but Tommy became impatient at their speed, and tore off past them, dragging me and Fabrizio following. We took a lot of turns, always going back if we saw water coming towards us.

He kept looking back at me, as if he needed to be reassured that I was there. Every time he did, he would speed up considerably.

"Where is Jack?" Fabrizio asked worriedly.

"He's probably with Rose," I reassured him.

"Do you think he will be able to get out?" he persisted.

"Rose is very persuasive, and if they're together, I know they will," I told him, throwing a smile over my shoulder.

"And if he's with her, he's in first class, so he'll be one of the first out," Tommy added bitterly.

For a second I felt guilty that I had once been one of the privileged, but that was forgotten when we heard the buzz of many voices up ahead.

"Up here!" Tommy said hastily. We broke into a run, following the sound that was getting louder and louder. The closer we got, the more people were around: crying, screaming, and talking in any language you could think of. They all had one thing in common: they looked scared and confused. The hallways were crowded, making it hard to get through. The people all stood in one place, like they were waiting in line. Tommy stopped, and surveyed our surroundings.

"There's a way to get up to the deck this way!" he finally said. He glanced at me, and our eyes locked. His eyes searched my face, and he suddenly dropped his bag. He got on his knees next to it, and started to dig through the contents.

"What are you doing, Tommy?" Fabrizio asked worriedly. Tommy didn't respond, but turned his back on us and started to do something with whatever he'd retrieved from his bag. Suddenly he stood, and handed me a small box.

"Keep that with you, no matter what," he growled. I nodded, and dropped it into the pocket of his jacket. He nudged his bag with his foot, kicking it to the wall.

"This'll just get in the way." Fabrizio threw his stuff down too, and then we all hurried along, following Tommy's lead.

We came to the most crowded hallway yet, and saw all the way down two stewards were handing out lifebelts. We ran down the hall, and Tommy grabbed two from the stewards, jamming one into my hands.

"Put it on," he commanded. I did so, and was tying it when we came up on the stairs. They were packed with no room to move, and they gates at the top were locked. I could hear another steward at the top demanding calm from the people as they hurled insults at him, and rattled the gates.

"What've they got the bloody gates closed for?" Tommy growled fiercely.

"They'll let the first class people out first," I told him.

"Fabrizio, go see if you can find another way," Tommy said, and Fabrizio took off running. He turned to me, and grabbed my shoulders, staring dead in my eyes. "Listen to me right now, Evie. I am goin' ta get ya outta here alive, alright? Even if I can't get meself out. If there are any boats up there, you're to get in it even if there's no room for me, no matter what! Do ya understand?"

I shook my head vehemently. "That's not going to happen! Don't talk like that!"

He sighed. "Do ya trust me, love?"

I nodded without hesitation. "I trust you."

He held both sides of my face, and we were only centimeters apart. "I love ya."

"I love you back," I promised. He kissed me hard on the lips for several long seconds, and then let go. He grabbed my hand instead, and pushed his way to the top of the stairs with me in tow.

"Open the damn gates," he demanded. The already harassed steward rolled his eyes.

"Sir, as I have been telling these people, it is not yet time for you to go to the boats. We will open the gates when the officers say to," he said with the tone of someone who'd had to say this many times to small children.

"You're goin' ta keep us locked up like goddamned prisoners while the ship sinks?" Tommy yelled, shaking the gates slightly.

"Sir, none of your actions will get you up any sooner," the steward said calmly.

Tommy looked murderous. I touched his arm, but he didn't calm any. He simply looked even angrier with the reminder that this was preventing him from getting me out safe, as he'd promised. I pushed past him, and stood with my old arrogant posture at the forefront of the gate.

"Excuse me, sir," I said, using my commanding accent, "if you do not allow me through this very instant, you will regret your decision immensely."

"And why is that?" he asked skeptically.

"I am Evelyn Ismay, daughter of the director of the White Star Line. I believe your job may be in jeopardy if it were known that you prevented me from escaping this ship."

The guy laughed uproariously, sounding insane. "Why would an Ismay be down with the steerage passengers?"

"A true lady can respect her inferiors," I stated, "and knows how to associate with them. Open this gate at once!"

"I don't think so, 'Miss Ismay'," he said disbelievingly.

I sneered, and spit on his shoes. He made a disgusted noise, but I had already returned to Tommy's side. He was actually grinning.

"Good try, but the spittin' was a little much," he commended.

"I would have told him to fetch my father, but he would have just told them to shoot me and get it over with quicker." He didn't reply, just pulled me into his body and kissed my head.

As time went by, the passengers became more and more frantic. The yelling became louder, and the shoving rougher. I continued to glance periodically at the bottom of the steps in case Fabrizio came back with an exit plan and signaled us down. He never did, and I was getting more and more anxious. Tommy kept repeating his words, but I wasn't sure if he was reassuring me or himself.

"Get ya out…not gonna die…we're goin' ta make it…"

He had one arm wrapped through the gate, and the other was at his side, his hand clasped in mine. He looked like he'd love to throw a couple of punches at this point.

"Ya can't keep us locked in here like animals!" he finally exploded, yelling at the steward. "The ship's bloody sinkin'!"

The steward glanced at Tommy, and then yelled, "Bring forward the women!" He reached to a man behind him for a key.

"Go!" Tommy demanded, nudging me forward so I would be at the front. My eyes widened, and I clung to his lifebelt instead while the steward fumbled with the keys.

"Tommy, they said only women!" I squealed. "I'm not going without you!"

The steward was sticking the key in the lock. "I told ya that I'm goin' ta make sure that you're out, no matter what!"

"I'm not getting on a damn boat unless I'm sure that you aren't locked in down here!" I said, planting my feet firmly.

"Women only!" the steward said as the gate opened. "No men!"

One woman ran through, and then all hell broke loose. The men weren't listening very well, and were shoving themselves to the front to run out. I was shoved hard into Tommy's chest, and a man tumbled past me down the stairs after getting hit in the head by a steward wielding an axe. People were screaming, and I was being squished as people tried to run through the open gates. The stewards pushed and shoved the men back in, failing to contain them all.

The steward who had been speaking before pulled out a small gun, cocked it awkwardly and held it out.

"GET BACK!" he screamed, pointing it at the front of the gates."LOCK THE GATES! GET BACK FROM THOSE GATES! DON'T TOUCH THE GATES!" They finally managed to pull them shut, but this just made the people more agitated than ever. Tommy finally managed to right me, and he turned furiously to the man holding the gun.

"FOR GOD'S SAKE MAN, THERE ARE WOMEN AND CHILDREN DOWN HERE!" he thundered. "LET US OUT SO WE CAN HAVE A CHANCE!"

The man just looked dumbstruck, but made no move to reopen the gates. Tommy backed away suddenly, pointing threateningly at the man as he did so. I followed, shoving my way through the people.

"We're goin' ta go find Fabrizio!" Tommy yelled over his shoulder.

Once we were at the bottom, Tommy yelled, "Jack!"

"Tommy!"

I came up on Tommy's side, and saw Jack Dawson standing there. He was soaking wet from head to toe, but seemed unscathed otherwise. Next to him, equally as wet and scared looking was Rose.

"Rose!" I exclaimed, leaping forward to hug her. I heard Fabrizio's Italian accent, and assumed he was back, but I was too focused on Rose.

"Evelyn!" she gasped, hugging me back. "Are you alright?" Her eyes darted to Tommy.

"I'm fine," I assured her. "Are you?" She nodded.

We didn't have time to say much more because Jack, Tommy, and Fabrizio had decided we were going to try a different direction.

"Come on!" Jack said, turning back down the hallway. Tommy grabbed my hand, and we ran behind Jack and Rose with Fabrizio taking up the rear. I lost count of the twists and turns, but we finally arrived at a long, less crowded hallway. Jack stopped suddenly near an opening to a separate hallway.

"Come on!" Tommy said hurriedly, squeezing my hand.

"No, come on, let's go this way!" he decided. No one complained, and we just ran after him.

I could feel desperation and panic bubbling up, but attempted to push it down. The ship groaned slightly, and I felt nauseous. If I got out of this, I was never getting on a boat ever again. I had no reason to go overseas. I would stay in America forever.

We passed an angsty Arabic family, flipping through a dictionary to attempt to read the signs on the walls. I felt bad, but didn't have the time or the knowledge to communicate to them what it meant. My main priority was the group I was with, Tommy most specifically. There was no life for me anywhere without him.

We took two quick rights, and ran up a flight of stairs. I nearly cried when I realized that it ended in another locked gate. This one had less people in front of it, making it quieter and easier for Jack to shove his way to the front, grasping the gates in both hands.

"Go back to the main stairwell, and it will all be sorted out there!" the steward was saying. We'd just come from the main stairwell, and there was definitely nothing be sorted in any way down there.

"Open the gate," Jack said evenly.

"Go back down the main stairwell," he repeated.

"Open the gate right now!" Jack said, voice getting steadily louder and irritated, and pointing at the man through the opening in the gate.

"Go back down the main stairwell like I told you!" the little man said in his annoying voice.

Jack turned away with a discouraged look. He caught sight of Rose, and some sort of fire lit up his eyes. He was enraged, something I'd never seen from the laidback artist.

He turned around and shook the gates wildly like a caged gorilla. "Goddammit, son of a bitch!" he shouted

"Stop that!" the steward yelled. Jack just kicked the gates once again for good measure. He pushed back through the gate, and stared around the small landing off the stairs. There was a bench nailed to the floor on the right side. He ran to it, and grabbed it on one side.

"Fabri, Tommy, give me a hand here!" he yelled. They both ran to him, grabbing the bench and wrenching it up.

Rose and I both glanced at each other, having a silent conversation in the course of a second. We both knew what they were going to do, and we understood what we had to do.

"Move aside!" we both yelled at the same time, turning to push the people away from the gates.

"Go, move!" I yelled, pushing them all. "Move out of the way! Do you want to get killed by a bench? No? Then get out of the way!"

Finally they were all out of the way, leaving a clear path for Tommy, Jack, and Fabrizio to charge the gates. They'd ripped the bench clear off the floor, leaving two large holes in the ground. All of the guards at the gate had run away except for the man with the annoying voice.

"Put that down, put that down!" he repeated, his hands in the air as he gestured at them to stop.

"One, two," Jack counted down.

"Stop that!" the steward commanded.

"Three!" Jack roared. The three of them ran, ramming the gates with the force of a full grown rhino. The gates clanged and their hinges bent, but they didn't come away from the wall.

"Again!" Jack yelled. They rammed it again, and the bench went straight through the gates, landing on top of them in the doorway.

"Let's go, Rose!" Jack said, grabbing her and pulling her through.

Tommy picked me up bridal style, and set me down on the other side of the bench. He took my hand, and we started to follow the others.

"You can't go that way!" the steward was repeating, over and over. "You can't go that-"

He never got to finish his sentence. With speed I didn't know he possessed, Tommy had raised his fist and knocked the man out cold with one punch. It crossed my mind how incredibly arousing I would have found it if it weren't for the situation.

We sprinted up a long, straight hallway that was completely empty. There was a door at the end where I could see the night sky shining through the small window at the top. I couldn't believe we'd made it to the deck! Relief swept through me, and I thought me may have a chance yet. We approached the door swiftly, and the closer we got the louder the screams of the people outside became.

We burst out of the door, running straight to the railing on the side of the deck.

"The boats are all gone!" Rose yelled, dismayed.

The hope that we might all be able to get out safe died as quick as it had come.

**So...there's part one of the sinking. How'd I do? :3**

**Well, you can let me know in one of the five reviews I'm asking for. ;) Please and thank you.**

**Love to everyone. (:  
**


	11. I Will Not Die, I'll Wait Here For You

**I told you there wouldn't be anymore delays. ;) **

**So there seemed to be some confusion about my last chapter? I reread it thoroughly, and I don't see any mistakes so it wasn't me fudging up (as usual, haha). Those of you who had problems: feel free to PM or email me (my email is theskywasfalling and it's a live address) and I'd be happy to clear everything up. :)**

**We're almost at the end. I think there's three more chapters after that one, and then it's all over. D: I'm attached to Evelyn, and I honestly don't want to end this!**

**The song for this one is "Time of Dying" by Three Days Grace. **

**Read on.  
**

_I Will Not Die, I'll Wait Here for You_

Tommy looked down at me, and the expression on his face was like I was already dead.

"It's going to be fine," I said reassuring him this time, instead of the other way around. "We're going to get out of this."

He didn't seem convinced. Jack and Rose were turning to run to the other side when they ran into Colonel Gracie.

"Colonel!" Rose gasped. "Are they any boats on that side?"

"No, miss," he said unconcernedly, "but there are a couple of boats all the way forward. This way, I'll lead you."

All five of us shot off running before he could really lead us. We wouldn't have gotten there very fast with the elderly man leading us. We ran by the band that normally played during dinners in the first class, who were playing cheery music around the middle of the deck. It amazed me that they were really continuing to play in all this madness.

"Music to drown by, now I know I'm in first class," Tommy growled as we sprinted by them.

It was like people had been reverted back to their primal state. People everywhere were fighting for deck chairs and other things they could float on in the water. Everyone was pushing and shoving, or jumping into the water. The level of noise was nearly piercing my eardrums, and I was freezing to the bone. The only appendage on me that was warm was the hand that was in Tommy's.

"Look!" Fabrizio yelled over the noise. Up ahead was a lone lifeboat, still being loaded. Jack's burning determination kicked in, and he shoved through the crowd to the front, leaving a small path for the rest of us to slide through.

The officers looked harried as the crowd pushed as one towards the boat.

"You guys should go check the other side!" Jack said. "Go!" Fabrizio, Tommy, and I sprinted away. I grabbed Rose's hand as I passed, giving her one last goodbye hoping we would see each other again.

We ran across the boat deck, sprinting to the other side to see if we could find a boat. I thought about telling Tommy that I wasn't getting on any boat without him, but I had already promised him I would. Damn it, why would I promise a thing like that?

"EVELYN!" a man's voice yelled. I let go of Tommy's hand, and stared at the person who'd called. It was my father. He was standing by the boat deck, still in his pajamas with a coat thrown over it, looking incredibly thunderstruck. "What are you doing? Your room was torn apart and…" He's spotted Tommy and Fabrizio, who were standing next to me. His eyes narrowed. "I see."

I ignored him, and was starting to back away, towards the boat, but he took a few steps forward.

"No, don't!" he yelled. "Come with me! I can get you on a boat immediately!"

I looked up at Tommy, and saw his jaw set. "I can get on a boat without your help," I told my father.

"Even after all I told you, you still go with him!" he hissed angrily.

"I love him, and he loves me," I said firmly.

"Can love protect you from drowning or freezing?" he snapped back. I didn't answer, so he huffed and grasped my wrist to pull me with him. I yanked away, and turned to hold onto Tommy, but he was shoving me away.

"Go with him! Right now!" he said. He was nudging me softly towards my father.

"What? No!" I gasped. "I'm staying with you!"

He grabbed both sides of my face, and his eyes bore into mine. "I promised ya, and ya agreed. Ya will get on a boat no matter if I can or not. He can get ya on one before anyone else can. Yer father runs the damn company, Evie."

"I don't care!" I shouted, resisting the urge to stamp my foot immaturely. "I want to be with you!"

"And ya will," he said firmly. "I'll catch another boat, and when we get ta New York, I'm goin' ta marry ya. The very second I can."

I found myself beaming, despite the urgent situation. I could see Fabrizio shifting anxiously from foot to foot behind Tommy. "Is that another promise?"

He grinned, and kissed me quickly. "Yes." He pulled me to him, crushing me against his chest. I clung to him just as tightly, breathing in his scent that was so familiar, even though it had only been a couple of days. To me, it was like home.

"My parents weddin' rings are in that box I gave ya," he whispered in my ear. "We're goin' ta use them. I swear."

I nodded, and he pushed me away and turned me away from him, shoving me towards the man I detested. Father put his arm around my shoulders, and started to pull me away. I clung to Tommy's hand until we were too far away. I turned around, my heart thumping in a broken rhythm that became stranger every step I took.

"I told you," my father said, "that men like him aren't capable of being good people."

I didn't reply. Despite all my instincts, I looked back. Tommy was still there, Fabrizio's hand on his shoulder. His eyes were on me, and he looked defeated, crumpled. His eyes haunted me even after I turned around. They showed the same amount of pain that I was feeling.

/\/\/\/\/\

I kept telling myself I had to say it. She wouldn't have gone if I hadn't, but I still felt horrible for lying to her. I knew just how close it was to impossible to get safely off the ship at this point. Though I wanted to do all the things I had told her we would, it was doubtful.

"You did the right thing," Fabrizio said as we turned away to keep looking for a boat.

I didn't respond, but it sure didn't feel like the right thing. I kept telling myself that I would get off, and be able to marry her. The sights that met my eyes told me otherwise.

The crowd was much more hectic since we'd last run through. The band was still playing, and I had the urge to punch them like I had the steward earlier.

Only a couple of hours ago I was lying in bed next to the love of my life, falling asleep soundly. It seemed impossible to believe that at that time I was thinking that when the Titanic docked in New York I was going to propose to her with my mother's ring. She got the ring, but not in the way I had expected.

Up ahead there was a large crowd, which could only be for a boat. I ran as fast as I could, not caring if I knocked anyone over. I had a life to be lived, and a future wife to take care of.

The boat was up on the very top deck, and they had oars under it to try and slide it down on them. There was a small wall up ahead, just about up to my waist. I vaulted it easily, Fabrizio climbing over it next to me. I punched a man in the back to get him out of my way, and violently made my way to the front.

The boat fell with a loud crash, and the officer started to load it immediately.

"Women and children only!" the officer yelled officially. He pulled out a gun, and pointed it at the crowd. Another officer put women and children in the boat from the other side of the crowd. Fabrizio was cursing in Italian.

A wealthy looking man appeared at the front of the group next to me, and I recognized him as Rose's fiancé, Cal, from the dinner I'd attended with Evie. I was surprised he wasn't on the first boat out, honestly.

"Stop pushing!" the man with gun commanded. A few men tumbled into the water on the side of the ship. "STAY BACK!"

A sudden flare of anger flashed in me, and I shouted, "I'VE GOT A WOMAN WHO NEEDS ME ALIVE! WILL YOU GIVE US A CHANCE TO LIVE, YOU LIMEY BASTARD?"

"I'LL SHOOT ANY MAN WHO TRIES TO GET PAST ME, GET BACK!" he shouted.

"BASTARD!" I repeated. I scowled at him, as Hockley stepped in front of him.

"GET BACK!" he yelled, but the man ignored him.

"We had a deal, damn you," he muttered agitatedly.

The officer took a wad of money, and threw it in his face. He looked appalled.

"Your money can't save you anymore than it can save me," the officer said disgustedly. He pushed him. "Get back!" Hockley looked like a man lost. I assumed handing out money had never failed to help him before. He bumped into me slightly, and I pushed him away with my elbow.

A man suddenly leapt on top of the wall I'd jumped over a few minutes ago. The officer shot him, and he tumbled back. I stepped back a few paces, taking him a little more seriously this time. Fabrizio did the same.

Suddenly I felt a violent push at my back, and I stumbled forward. I'd turned only about a centimeter to tell whoever it was off when I heard a loud bang and felt a blinding pain in my chest.

I fell backwards hard, but felt someone catch me just before I hit the ground. It was Fabrizio, who looked shocked beyond belief. His lips were moving, but I couldn't hear what he was saying. I couldn't hear anything I realized. I looked down at the redness that was sweeping across me, and realized with a terrifying panic that I'd been shot.

Fabrizio was staring pleadingly at the crowd, crying and gesturing heavily at people. No one tried to help him. I was already cold, but now I was freezing. I felt tired, and it was getting harder to breathe. I could taste blood in my mouth. I tried to say something, to tell Fabrizio to tell Evie I loved her and that I was sorry, but I couldn't.

My thoughts rested on Evie, who was safe in a lifeboat, not knowing that she'd never see me again. Her heart was broken, and I could never fix it for her now. I still didn't regret leaving her with her father though, knowing that it had made her safe in the end.

Four days ago, I got on this ship expecting an uneventful trip to America. I would get off alone, and make my way across the state to get to where the best work was. I would move into a workhouse and I didn't have anything planned out past that, but it didn't matter because my whole world turned upside down before the ship even started to sink. The very day I laid my eyes on that beautiful girl with her dark hair and catlike eyes it was different. I didn't know how so at the time, but I knew it. I remembered how distasteful she seemed to find me, and remembered thinking I'd never get close to her. I saw something though, in her eyes, almost like a light that told me that she wasn't as cold as she seemed. Every time I was around her, I saw the light get brighter, and I knew I was reaching her steadily.

I never expected to fall in love, but I did. I couldn't regret that I was dying now or even that the ship was sinking. Being here brought me to the only thing that mattered, and that was Evelyn Ismay. I would rather die knowing how we felt for each other than reverse it all so that we didn't meet and the ship made it safely to New York.

Somewhere in my mind I realized I wasn't actually leaving her. I'd be with her all the time, alive. The heart was what kept the body going, and my heart was with her forever. I wish I could tell her that, just to give her some reassurance.

The exhaustion was overwhelming, and my eyes closed. For a second I saw only darkness behind my eyelids, but suddenly an image of Evie burst up like a light being switched on. It was so clear: her eyes, her smile, her skin, her hair; like I was looking at a film except in full color. She was smiling at me, and mouthing the words I most wanted to hear.

I'd seen her one last time, and that was all I'd wanted. I drew one last shaky breath, felt my heart give one last struggling beat, and felt myself succumb to the darkness.

/\/\/\/\/\

My father had got us on the first boat he saw, and I just sat there next to him, watching the ship sink. Somewhere on there was the man I loved, the man I would marry. I tried to tell myself he'd managed to get on a boat, but the logical half of me told me that that was very unlikely.

I thought about the first time I met Tommy, how haughty I was back then. He'd seen the small glimmer of decency I still possessed, and clung to it until he was able to pull it to the surface. He had showed me who I truly was, and I knew I would forever be grateful for that. I remembered thinking that his eyes were like unclouded windows, and being able to see just how good-hearted he was from the start. They were the same the last time I'd seen them, but they showed different things. I could see his fear, but there was a crippling sadness because of what was happening. The most dominant thing though was the knee-buckling love I felt for him, returned.

I sat as if it were a bed of nails rather than wood I was sitting on. I could see the angle the ship was tipping at, and it made me feel incredibly nauseous to even look at it.

We'd rowed a good distance away, but I could see other boats much further out. Women and children around me were crying still, but I had stopped. My tears were freezing on my face anyway. Now I was clutching onto the coat that once been Tommy's, trying to hold myself together. His scent wafted over me, and my heart beat feebly, like it didn't even want to anymore.

Even at the distance, I heard a gunshot ring out clearly, quickly followed by another one. The woman closest to me leapt in fright, and clung to her skirt like it was keeping her tethered to the earth. One more shot sounded, and I hoped no one had actually gotten injured. Hopefully it was just more warnings.

I clenched my hand onto the coat, clinging to the side of the small boat with the other. I was nearly sick with fright while watching the frantic people still on the doomed ship. It was so high now that I could see a propeller. One of the women in my lifeboat leaned over the side, and vomited in the ocean. I reached over and patted her back. She smiled gratefully.

I observed her garb, and noticed that she was wearing a ratty brown dress with a frayed bottom, and an old pair of work boots. Only days ago I would have frowned upon this woman, and hoped she got as far from me as possible in a short amount of time. But Tommy had made me see that it wasn't a person's status that mattered really, it was mostly how you treated others that made you a good person or not. He'd taught me more useful things in the days I'd known him than I learned my whole life. I hoped he could continue to do so, in America as my husband.

My father suddenly turned around completely, facing away from the ship. He looked near tears again, but I didn't care. He deserved every misfortune that would ever come his way. I would desert him the second I was off this infernal lifeboat, and I wouldn't look back. I wasn't an Ismay anymore, and soon, I would be a Ryan. Mrs. Evelyn Ryan. It sounded strangely delightful to my ears, and I repeated it to myself under my breath. It seemed to fit me instantly, just like Tommy had. But he wasn't here, and that terrified me. He could be over there somewhere, splashing around in the cold water or clinging to a railing on the sinking ship.

No, he's on a lifeboat. He will live, and everything will be okay. If he isn't, I...I don't even want to think about that.

I adjusted on my bench, and closed my eyes, listening to the sounds of screaming all around me, echoing the pained turmoil in my heart.

**Like? Love? Hate? Let me know. :)**

**Only five until the next one, my loves. Please? Pretty please? :3**


	12. Without You I'm So Lost

**Hello, my darlings! **

**First thing's first: I have a correction to make. There's only one more chapter after this one, an epilogue, and then I'll post my sort of soundtrack. After that, it's all over. :'( I'm more upset over losing my lovely reviewers than anything else. D: **

**Really, you've all been wonderful, and so helpful. I thank everyone who's reviewed (you'll all be thanked formally at the end of the epilogue), and anyone who's added this story to their favorites or alerts. You're all amaaaaazing! :D**

**This is a long ass chapter. Day-umm. Haha, only 26 words away from 7,000. You're welcome.  
**

**The song for this one is "Early Mourning" by Alesana. It's actually pretty heartbreaking. :P**

**Onward!  
**

_Without You I'm So Lost_

I wasn't entirely sure just how long it took after that before the whole entire ship was sticking almost straight up in the air. I watched in horror with the others as the grandest ship in history groaned with the weight of supporting itself in midair. Everyone ran as fast as they could towards the bow, and some even just launched themselves off the side, giving up. The officer in our boat kept yelling for the people rowing to go faster, but even though he was so close it was background noise to the decibel of the screams issuing from the area around the Titanic.

My heart came back alive, only enough to pray for everyone onboard, even though I wasn't religious. No one deserved this sort of death, not even the father I loathed, who was sitting next to me in the lifeboat.

Suddenly there was a thundering crack of wood, and the metal of the ship made the loudest groan ever. A woman next to me started to recite prayers in a hurried voice under her breath, holding onto a rosary around her wrist with white knuckles. The officer demanded that they pull faster on the oars, and another loud crack echoed over the water.

The bow suddenly tipped away from the stern with a deafening sound like thunder, breaking messily down the middle. The people screamed almost as a single body, one loud scream shattering the sound barrier. The bow fell fast back toward the water, people swimming as fast as they could to get from underneath of it. I whimpered pathetically, my breath fogging out in front of me, as very few of them made it before the ship landed back on the water. Unbelievable sized waves washed over those in the water, and rocked our boat precariously when they reached us. Several of the women aboard screamed.

I kept my attention on the ship. It was rising back up into the night sky, resting precariously on the small piece that hadn't ripped away entirely. Finally the bow was sticking perfectly straight up into the night sky.

"And may God have mercy on their souls," the praying woman finished tearfully, kissing her rosary.

The ship just sat there, floating, and it seemed like everyone in the area was waiting with bated breath for what would happen next. My heart was pounding in my chest like an overactive hummingbird, and it became harder and harder for me to remain calm. The metallic sounds of the boat made everything seem even eerier in the darkness. People fell like they weighed nothing, slamming into parts of the ship or hitting the water.

"My god, Tommy," I whispered into the night.

As if my words had triggered it, the ship made a glugging sound and began a slow descent into the black water. The windows broke, water and glass shooting away from them like bombs going off. People hung from the railing that used to be the back of the ship, some even sitting on top of it to stay out of the freezing water for as long as possible.

I grabbed the coat, and felt something hard in my hand. I dug in the pocket, and pulled out the box Tommy had given me. I opened it with shaking fingers, and peered inside. Two silver bands sat in it, wedding rings, just like he said there's be. They were both linked by a thin leather chord, like they'd been worn around a neck. I pulled the smaller of the two which was obviously meant for me from the chord. It had vines engraved on the outside, like ivy twisting around around a trellis. I slipped it onto my finger, and felt myself flush when it fit perfectly. Staring at it, resting perfectly on my left ring finger, it just looked like it had always belonged there. It was like an extension of my skin. I took it off, and hurriedly put it back on the chord. I put it around my neck, and put the box back into my pocket. It didn't feel right wearing it before Tommy could put it on me.

I closed my eyes and imagined him sitting in one of the boats closer to the water, safe and sound and thinking of me. If that wasn't true, than he was one of the people on the top of the railing, staying alive as long as possible. He _would_ survive, and we _would_ get out of this together.

The ship finally only had about three feet still out of the water. The passengers still onboard made their last bids for freedom, not wanting to be sucked down with the ship. Finally, with one last bubbling sound, Titanic disappeared beneath the surface of water, never to see the sky again.

For a few seconds the only sound we heard was that of sloshing water, but that didn't last long before the silence was broken by the screams of those in the water.

They begged for the boats to come back, for help, but none of the boats seemed to be rowing back that way.

"My son, my son," an elderly woman near the front of our boat moaned, rocking back and forth in her seat.

I looked out at the water and wondered how many sons were out there, how many fathers, brothers, uncles, nephews, and husbands. The men out there were already freezing to death or drowning, and I knew for damn sure that I wasn't going to let one particular man out there do either of those.

I stood up, and screamed, "TOMMY! TOMMY RYAN! ANSWER ME RIGHT NOW!"

"You bloody idiot, sit down!" the officer manning our boat said. My father groaned like he felt sick, and tugged on my arm. I swatted him away with my free hand.

"TOMMY RYAN, IF YOU CAN HEAR ME, SWIM THIS WAY! TOMMY!"

"Nobody can hear you except us!" the officer said. "Do you know how loud it is out there?"

"Then we'll just have to row there!" I resolved, yanking an oar out of the hands of a confused woman behind me. "Help me!" I begged, looking around at the others. They all stared warily back, clearly not about to do so.

"Sit DOWN!" the officer demanded.

"My fiancé is out there!" I shrieked, eyes starting to water. Father made a noise like he was being strangled, and a woman near the back sobbed loudly. "I'm not going to just let him die!"

"Look, lady, the thing is: he's probably already dead. So, sit-"

_SMACK! _My hand collided with his face with force I didn't know I possessed, and the women in the boat gasped I thought fleetingly that Tommy would have been proud of me for that, but the urgency of the situation was more important at the moment.

"Do you have NO sympathy?" I roared. "No bloody _heart!"_

"Evelyn!" my father gasped. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"_  
_

The officer stood up, and grabbed me by my shoulders to shove me back into my seat.

"If you don't sit down and shut up, you're going to find yourself mighty colder, and wet!" he shouted, falling heavily back into his own seat. I looked around at the others, hoping one of them would come to my aid. None of them did, all looking wary of the open ocean. My father looked like he agreed with the officer, but that wasn't a surprise. He'd be ecstatic if Tommy died out there.

I just glared at him, having no rebuttal. I doubted anyone would help me if he tried to throw me overboard, and without the help of the others I couldn't get to the crowd of people in the water. I couldn't row the damn boat by myself.

I just had to keep faith that Tommy would be alright. He was a strong man with a lot of determination, and if someone like him couldn't get out then no one could.

/\/\/\/\/\

It was so cold. We'd been just sitting idly in the water for so many hours. I couldn't feel my fingers or toes, and was starting to lose feeling in my wrists and ankles as well. I was shuddering violently, and even my hair felt stiff from the cold. The screams from the water had died down, but I refused to look up at the section of water where they came from. I didn't want to see what I knew would be there: a lot of motionless bodies. I didn't want to peer out there and accidentally catch sight of Tommy's face down in the water. If he was…I didn't want that image to be my last memory of him.

Suddenly an echo reached us over the water, a voice calling out, "HELLO! IS THERE ANYONE ALIVE OUT THERE?"

I looked up, making sure to keep the bodies out of my peripheral, and saw a boat rowing up to the crowd in the water. Several men were rowing it, and one officer had a flashlight pointed at the water. They were going back for survivors. I felt hopeful, but irritated at the same time. Why go back now, when they were all practically silent? What was the point? I stared abjectly back down at the bottom of the boat.

"Sir," one of the women whispered, "sir, she's not breathing."

The officer stood up, and stepped over a woman to reach the one who'd spoken. She was talking about a girl lying on her shoulder, who looked to be around her mid-teens. There was no fog issuing from her mouth or nose, and her eyes were shut. The officer touched the side of her neck, and then sadly pulled his hand away.

"Does anyone know her?" he asked everyone on the boat. No one claimed to. He took the blanket that had been around her shoulders, laid her down as best as he could, and then covered her with it.

No one seemed terribly bothered by the presence of a dead body in our boat. If they felt like I did, I knew it was because I was almost desensitized to the idea of being surrounded by death at this point. I was nauseated that it had come to this.

It made me feel horrible that I couldn't even bear to feel sorry for a woman who had just died right next to me, but my heart was already aching with the guilt of leaving Tommy on the doomed ship, not to mention Rose, Jack, and Fabrizio. It was already too much for me to worry about them.

"HEY, YOU!" an officer in another boat called. "ROW OVER HERE!"

The officer in our boat nodded at us. "You heard the man. Row."

We started a slow procession over to him, the water making quiet dripping sounds when the oars emerged from the icy water. I gave another violent shudder, and wrapped my arms around myself. Tommy's coat wasn't doing much to keep me warm.

"Here, dear," an older woman next to me said. She had two blankets wrapped around herself. She took one off, and offered it to me.

I shook my head. "No, I couldn't…"

"Of course you could," she said kindly, flinging it across my shoulders and wrapping me in it like I was a small child.

"Thank you, very much," I said earnestly, clutching the blanket around me. She just smiled briefly.

We reached the other boat, and my heart gave an unpleasant jolt when I saw who was in it: Ruth Dewitt-Bukater. If she knew that I'd been with Rose for a majority of the trauma on the ship, she would probably interrogate me. I turned away, not wanting her to notice me.

I heard rather than saw the officers in the boats talking in quiet voices to one another.

"…and Lowe went back."

"I know…the fool."

"They've tied together over there. Think we should head over?"

"Probably."

"Alright," the officer in our boat called to us, "do you see that clump of boats over there? We're going to head in their direction! Everyone set? Alright then, row!"

The boats rowed rather quickly towards the others, and I could still hear the man in the boat who'd went back calling to voices that would never answer back. I knew the sights that those men would be seeing could nothing less than bleak. The officers greeted each other with unemotional nods, and the officer in our boat used a length of rope to fasten our boat to the others.

Eventually it was silent. No one in the boats talked, and the man who'd been pulling survivors from the water had stopped calling for people. I wondered how many he'd been able to pull out, or if anyone I knew had been one of them. I discreetly searched the boats, but saw no sign of a man with curly hair. The only hope I had at this point was that I just hadn't noticed him, or the boat drifting way off behind us with the ones who'd been pulled from the water.

/\/\/\/\/\

The officers eventually untied the boats so that we could row away. We drifted in the direction we'd been heading in the ship, and I thought of what I'd be doing if I was making this journey still on the Titanic. I'd be fast asleep in Tommy's bunk, and in the morning I'd eat breakfast with him in the third class dining hall. We'd spend the whole day together, and I would try to learn as much about him as I possibly could. I didn't even know his middle name or what his favorite color was. Hell, I didn't even know what part of Ireland he was from.

We would talk about our lives once we were in America together, and the wedding we would have. I'd never told him that I'd always wanted to be married on a beach. That could never happen now though. I had a newly developed aversion to the sea.

The only provision in our boat was a small canteen of water, which was shared between the dozens of passengers in the boat. When it reached me, it was already nearly empty, so I only took a small sip before passing it to a girl who could be no more than nine. There was no food.

Dawn came. The sky was highlighted in shades of dark pink, and a bright orange that burned through my eyelids when they were closed. I was exhausted, but I couldn't sleep. Whenever I closed my eyes, all I could see were the people writhing against the cold water, or falling like ants over the deck of the ship as they fought for ways to survive. It was making my mind feel extremely heavy, like I had too many memories in it.

I kept my face averted most of the time, only stealing glances when I couldn't help it. The boats were all separated rather far now, but I didn't want to risk it.

When the stars had finally all disappeared, I heard a shout from a boat further ahead. I squinted towards it, but something past it caught my eye. It was a dot highlighted against the horizon, but there was no mistaking what it was: a ship.

"WE'RE SAVED!" a woman in my boat bellowed. There were relieved sighs from everyone, but I remained stoic. I had a horrible clenching feeling in my gut, a foreboding that wouldn't go away. I was practically terrified.

When the ship was close enough, I could read the name emblazoned on the side: Carpathia. It was rather big, but nothing close to the Titanic. At least it wasn't at the bottom of the ocean, nor did it seem to be close to being so.

It was a rather long time before the ship met us, for it had to slow down to stop in time for us. We had to row a lot of the way to get to it. One boat after another pulled up next to it, their passengers climbing the ladder or having to be hoisted up different ways if they were unable to move. When our boat pulled up, they lifted the dead body up first on a makeshift stretcher with ropes attached to it. I was the last before the officer to go up.

Once on board, they pointed the first class to a ladder that lead to an upper deck, and the second and third class were left to their own devices on the deck we'd landed on. I saw my father standing with the Guggenheims, being quite absorbed in the conversation. He hadn't looked for me yet, so I took my chance, slipping away where the steerage passengers were collecting together. I found a secluded corner, and pulled the blanket over my head so that my face was hidden in shadow. This was it. I didn't want to be found again.

I looked around at the passengers through my eyelashes, waiting to see one of the people I knew. The foreboding in my chest swelled like an overfilled balloon, touching everything it could reach, and making my nausea increase.

For a long time they just had men walking through to collect names of the survivors. No one saw me sitting in my corner, so I wasn't asked. After it was around midday, I figured most everyone on the deck would have given their name. I knew it had to be done, but even as I stood up, I was afraid to ask what I knew I had to.

I walked up to a younger man who had collected all of the clipboards with the names on it.

"Excuse me," I whispered. He looked up, and clutched his clipboard.

"Name?" he asked simply, pen poised to write. I ignored the question.

"Can you tell me…is there a Jack Dawson on your list?"

He sighed agitatedly, and looked through the clipboards. It took a long time before he shook his head. "No, ma'am."

The balloon in my chest stretched even further. "Fabrizio? I don't know his last name…"

He looked again, and it took just as much time as looking for Jack. He eventually shook his head. "No, ma'am."

It was going to be harder now. "Rose…Rose Dewitt-Bukater."

He shook his head immediately. "She's already been asked for, but she's not on the list. Now can I take your name?"

Tears had sprouted in my eyes, but I continued to ignore him. I was getting hysterical, but I knew it wasn't the time to freak out yet. "Tommy Ryan?"

He clenched his jaw. "Ma'am, I need your name."

"Is Tommy Ryan on that list?" I asked hurriedly.

"Ma'am-"

"Just tell me!" I screeched, getting extremely anxious. He leapt a bit, startled, but quickly started to shuffle through his clipboards. My breathing became more and more shallow everytime he had to go to another clipboard. My heart started to pound in my ears, and even though the deck was open to the sky, I felt extremely closed in.

"No, ma'am," he finally said. "Now can I take your name?"

I didn't hear his question, because my whole world had just came crashing down on my shoulders. How was it possible for him to even still be sitting there? The universe had just exploded because Tommy Ryan was dead. It couldn't be possible. My face was calm, all except for my eyes, which were bulging. The man with the clipboards looked a little wary of me.

"Miss…miss, what's your name?"

"NO!" I suddenly screamed at the top of my lungs. The man jumped so bad that a few clipboards tumbled to the floor. "NO, NO, NO! He can't be dead! You haven't gotten everyone's names! They can't all be dead!"

I sunk to the ground, my knees hitting the wood hard. I was having trouble breathing, but tears still dripped from my eyes though no sound escaped my lips. It was sinking in: I had no one. The four people who I had hoped to stay in my life were gone, dust in the wind. Something caught my eye, and I saw it was the two rings on the cord around my neck. I reached up, and held them gingerly in my palm. They should have been the rings I'd used in my wedding. I was supposed to be Mrs. Evelyn Ryan. I couldn't be her now though. My chest felt like it was caving in, and I had to bite back a scream of agony. Tommy was dead.

"Ma'am! Ma'am, are you alright?"

I only just realized that the man with the names had run around his table, and was trying to help me up. He couldn't support my weight though. I glanced around, and saw that many people were watching us curiously. A few other people had surrounded us to see if I was okay.

"Everyone…everyone is…they're all dead! I'm alone," I gasped, unable to find the words. One of the officers from the Titanic looked at me sympathetically, and then straightened up.

"Alright, everyone clear off!" he demanded, waving them away. "Nothing to see here!"

They all walked away, casting me backward glances like they thought I might explode again. I stayed kneeling on the ground, staring at the floor like I couldn't believe it was there. My vision was blurred to the point of being blind from tears, and I couldn't seem to locate my heart. It didn't seem right that it was still beating when theirs' couldn't anymore.

"Ma'am," the officer who'd shunned everyone said soothingly, "I'm going to pull you up, alright?"

I just stared disbelievingly at him, and nodded, not even realizing what I was agreeing to. Suddenly he stuck a hand under each of my arms like I was a toddler, and hauled me to my feet. I was so surprised that I tripped once he'd let go, and started to fall backwards. He steadied me, and wouldn't let go of my arms until he was certain I would stay upright.

"May I ask your name?" he asked kindly.

My mind didn't seem to want to process much at the moment. Tommy's face was in my mind's eye, blocking out everything else.

"I…I'm…what?" I asked stupidly.

"What's your name, love?" he asked. Tommy had called me love.

"Don't call me that," I snapped. He didn't seem offended or surprised.

"I'm sorry, ma'am," he said. "Can I get your name now?"

"What's the meaning of this?" My father had come over, and was eying the officer like he used to look at Tommy. My temper flared again.

"My name is Evelyn Ryan," I snapped at the man. I felt my heart beat for a few moments, as if it were happy to hear the name allowed

"No it very well is not," he snapped. "Your name is Ismay."

The other man watched us appraisingly, like he wasn't too sure if he should walk away or stop the fight before it got out of control.

"My name hasn't been Ismay since the day I got on that goddamned ship!" I hissed.

"You can't just renounce a name," he said. He was trying to keep his voice calm in order to divert attention, but I didn't have the same discretion.

"I CAN DO WHAT I WANT!" I yelled back. Everyone that turned away before turned back now. "You're pathetic! It truly confounds my mind how good men like Tommy, Jack, and Fabrizio can die in tragedies like this, but vermin like you survive! I've had enough of you! I never want to see your bloody face again!"

He looked dumbstruck, as did everyone else in the vicinity. My nostrils remained flared, breathing heavily as I tried to hold myself back from saying anything else. I knew those words would have quite an impact, and anything else I said would make it go too far.

His face suddenly blanked of all expression, and he took a step back. I didn't falter as he took two more, and then finally he turned and strode away hastily.

Silence reigned, and I glared around at everyone until they went about what they were doing. The anger ebbed, and finally was replaced by an unnaturally heavy amount of grief. I was free now, but at what cost? The people I would have wanted to share it with were gone. The officer in front of me searched my face, like he was looking for something that was evading him.

"Evelyn Ryan, write that down," he commanded the man with the clipboards, who hurriedly shut his gaping mouth and scribbled the name down. The officer turned back, and smiled at me, though it didn't reach his eyes.

"Are you hungry, Mrs. Ryan?" he asked.

I didn't correct him on the title. "No," I said, registering just how dead my tone was.

"Well," he reached behind the table where the man was copying down my name, and pulled a blanket out. He handed it to me. "At least take this. You must be cold."

I took it, but couldn't seem to get the words 'thank you' out of my mouth. He smiled once again, and then he was gone.

/\/\/\/\/\

That night, people were splayed out all over the deck on makeshift beds made from blankets, clothes, or even each other. I had found a more secluded spot near the bow, but I hadn't been able to sleep. I had ripped a piece of the blanket the officer had given me, and put it under my head. I covered myself with the rest of it, and Tommy's coat. I had spent a lot of time with the cuffs of it under my nose, for it still smelled faintly of his aroma of cigarettes and something else I couldn't quite place. It made my heart ache.

I'd spent every second I could alone since the morning. I hated myself for leaving him to die, and part of me was mad at them all for leaving me behind. What was I to do alone in this world?

Mostly I stayed at corners of the deck where no one could find me, and made sure something covered my head at all times. I reached up constantly to touch the necklace I now wore, as if the rings would disappear with Tommy eventually. They were always there, of course, but it did little to comfort me.

The stars were so bright tonight, almost mocking me. The constellations I'd shown Tommy shown brightest, as if to say, "Remember when you were happy, in his arms, and telling him about us? We remember too." My chest ached, and my eyes felt like they'd like to cry but had no tears left to do so.

I stood up; feeling like lying down was no longer an option. I shoved the scrap I'd been using for a pillow in my pocket, and wrapped the blanket back around me. I stepped over the sleepers, and finally got to the stairs. I sat down, leaned my face against the railing, and looked out at the rolling sea.

I remembered a night just like this, only days ago, where I danced with Tommy in my room, and he sang me a song I'd never heard. It surprised me just how easily the lyrics of that song came to me, and I don't remember wanting to but suddenly I was singing quietly to myself.

"_I don't know you, but I want you all the more for that. And words fall through me, and always fool me and I can't react. Games that never amount to more than they're meant will play themselves out. Take this sinking boat, and point it home. We've still got time. Raise your hopeful voice. You have a choice. You'll make it now. Falling slowly, eyes that know me, and I can't go back. And moods that take me and erase me, and I'm painted black. Well, you have suffered enough, and warred with yourself. It's time that you won. Take this sinking boat, and point it home. We've still got time. Raise your hopeful voice. You have a choice. You've made it now. Falling slowly, sing your melody. I'll sing along_."

Once I was finished, it felt like the song was too short. There should be so much more to it, so that I could stay wrapped up in that memory of him forever.

"That was lovely," someone said softly. I whipped around, and there was the officer from before. "May I sit?"

I surveyed him through narrowed eyes, but nodded. He sat next to me, and rubbed his hands together to get them warm.

"Why aren't you asleep?" he asked blatantly.

"Why aren't you?" I quipped back. He smiled humorlessly.

"It's hard to sleep when you hear screaming in your dreams," he said wryly.

"You've answered your own question, sir," I said simply, looking at him for the first time since he'd sat down.

"Ah, forgive me," he said suddenly holding out his hand, "I'm Harold Lowe."

I took his hand, and shook it. "You already know my name," I pointed out.

"Yes, I do," he responded. It became quiet, and I thought about Tommy, as I always was. I wonder what he would say if he knew I was talking to this man. I sort of imagined him as the jealous type, though he hadn't lived long enough for me to find out. I wish I knew.

"What are you thinking about?" he questioned randomly.

"Too many things at once, Mr. Lowe," I said honestly, "just like all of us."

"Tell me something then," he said. "Getting things off of your chest can help."

I glanced at him, and then looked back at the sky. He must have thought I wasn't going to answer because he sighed sadly.

"My mother, before she changed, was a lovely woman," I told him. "She taught me all I know about the stars, and that's a lot. I was closest to her of all her children because we had our fascination for them in common. I can tell you the background story on any constellation. I remember exactly how she told me each story too." I paused for a moment, observing a few particularly bright stars. "My favorite story wasn't even true, funnily enough. She told me that when we die, we become a star, and we stay up there with the loved ones we lose. Shooting stars are people darting across the sky to visit people who they aren't near, the ones they love that they couldn't get a place close to in the sky. Different stars are brighter to each person because each person has someone to look after once they're up there, and they shine only for them. She told me this after she miscarried her last pregnancy. She was crying when she told me, and I held her hand. She changed after that, and we never spent time together talking about stars again." I pointed up at the bright stars I'd noticed. "One thing that's on my mind, Harold Lowe, is that those stars right up there are the ones I lost last night. They're trying to tell me that they're here for me, I think."

"They are watching out for you," he assured me. "All of those that were lost are looking out now; making sure the Carpathia reaches New York unscathed."

"I hope you're right," I said honestly.

"Forgive me, Mrs. Ryan, but I must wonder why a society girl like you would want to disown your family," he blurted suddenly. I stared in his eyes to make him uncomfortable, but it didn't work. He just looked back.

"My father was a bad man," I said at once.

He didn't reply for a long time, and I actually hoped he might just leave without questioning me anymore. There was a raw scraping on my heart, like someone attempted to clean out my chest cavity with steel wool. I shifted uncomfortably.

"He will get his in the end," he promised, the first sign of bitterness audible in his voice. "That's why he's still alive. God has a plan for him. One day, he'll get worse than dying aboard the ship could have been for him."

That calmed me down, for it was a hope, a hope that I would cling to. It did surprise me a little, considering he was an employee of said bastard's company, but I didn't let on.

"I have to go check in with the other officers," he said quietly. "I'll hopefully see you tomorrow, Mrs. Ryan."

He was gone before I could thank him for making me feel hope that I didn't know was possible.

/\/\/\/\/\

The next day I only had a spoonful of soup before I felt disgusted by food. A broken heart was a heavy burden, and it affected everything about me. It even hurt to walk.

I was sitting in a dark corner under the steps, watching people walk by. Part of me was hoping to hide from Harold Lowe. I wasn't ready to associate with anyone yet, and he'd allowed me human contact. I only wanted to talk to certain people, but all of them were dead.

Another person strolled by, wearing their blanket like I did, over their head. I watched them silently, noting how slow they were going. Suddenly a strand of curly hair fell into view from where their head would be. They reached up, and pushed it back. But not before I noted the flaming red color of it.

I stood up so fast that I cracked my head on the stairs over me. I was seeing black spots in my vision, but I just ran blindly, stumbling to catch up with her. Because it had to be…

I grabbed their shoulder, and turned them around. My breath stopped, and my eyes widened considerably.

"Evelyn?" Rose asked disbelievingly.

"Rose," I whispered, tripping forward to throw my arms around her.

I held onto her so tight that I doubted she could breathe, but she didn't seem to mind. She was doing the same to me anyway. We both started to cry, and I'd never been so happy in my life.

"You…w-weren't on th-the bloody list," I sobbed.

"I didn't tell them my real name," she told me, pulling away and wiping her eyes on her sleeve. "I don't want to be a Dewitt-Bukater ever again. But you weren't on the list either!"

"I changed mine too!" I said eagerly. Suddenly all of the opportunities opened to me, and I felt so hopeful that it was damn near impossible to contain it. "Rose! Rose, if we put fake names than…than Tommy, Fabrizio, and Jack could have…"

I trailed off when she shook her head sadly. "Jack…froze in the water," she whispered.

My hands flew to my mouth, and I felt choked. "Rose, I'm so…so sorry."

She looked away. "Evelyn, we had reasons to put fake names. They didn't."

"It's still possible though!" I insisted. I had to keep up this hope; otherwise it was like losing him again.

"It's very unlikely though," she said quietly.

I didn't answer for a moment, letting it sink in: Tommy was for certain dead. No matter what I hoped or dreamed, he was gone.

"You're right," I said, turning away so she wouldn't see my eyes get red with the effort of holding back tears. I didn't want her to see me cry for some reason.

She said nothing, just embraced me again. Even though I'd lost the man I knew was my soul mate, it still uplifted me to know I had someone. I clung to Rose, the only thing left anchoring me to this life.

/\/\/\/\/\

A few days later, Rose and I stood in the rain, not bothering to run for cover. We had abandoned our blankets, and were watching the towering Statue of Liberty above us, silhouetted by the black night sky, as we pulled up to the United States.

"What are we going to do now?" I asked Rose quietly, barely moving my lips.

"I don't know," she responded slowly. "Safe to say I'm not going to Philadelphia anymore."

I nodded, and we lapsed back into silence. I thought about what I wanted to do. Well, what I wanted to do was get off with Tommy. That could never happen though. My heart pains festered unpleasantly.

"I think I'll go to California," Rose said suddenly.

I took my eyes off of the great statue to stare at her. "That's all the way on the other side of the country," I pointed out.

"I know where it is," she responded calmly.

I couldn't fathom her reasoning. "But why?"

"It's something I have to do," she said vaguely. "Something that I must do to…move past this. He told me to live, so I'm going to."

I didn't have to ask to know that the 'he' in question was Jack. I knew that all of her actions would be fueled by his memory, just as mine were by Tommy's. I understood what she meant, about needing to do it to try and heal. That's why I said what I said next.

"I'll come with you. I don't have anywhere to go anyway."

She turned to me with a raised eyebrow. "Are you sure?"

I nodded, and looked at the fast approaching land. "We're all each other has now, so we may as well stick together."

_**Life spent without rain.**_

_**You will always be…the heart in me**_

_**You will always be:**_

**_The past, the love, the memory_.**

**- A Skylit Drive.**

**That song lyric above applies. :) It's a truly INCREDIBLE song. It's "The Past the Love the Memory". **

**Anyway, this is definitely my least favorite chapter. My feelings towards it border near hate, actually. It was so hard to write. Blahhhhh!**

**Only five reviews until the next chapter, my loves. Please and thank you! I'm hoping to have everything posted and complete by Monday, but that's up to you guys! (;  
**

**I hope you all have a good weekend. :)  
**


	13. You Are Safe In My Heart

**Hi, my loves. Welcome to the last chapter of We Can Always Feel This Way. :( It's actually bit of an epilogue, like part one of it. But I'm counting it as a chapter. The actual epilogue is the next one, then the soundtrack and thank yous in the very last update.**

**I've put up a King Arthur story, for anyone who's interested, and I'm working on an Officer Lowe story that I hope to have up soon. :)**

**I hope my ending doesn't suck to you all. I think it sucks. My friend Erika says it doesn't, and I trust her but I'm not very confident in myself at the same time. :P**

**The song for this chapter is "My Heart Will Go On". I would have felt like a douche if I didn't use this song as one of the chapters. It's one of the best songs in history, and I don't even like music like that.  
**

_You Are Safe In My Heart_

Fifteen years later, I opened my eyes to a bright morning. I stared at the sun filtering in the window, and smiled to myself. Today was the day.

I threw the blankets off of myself and they landed on the floor. I barely noticed as I slung my robe on, and walked down the stairs of my beautiful two bedroom house.

I'd gone to Santa Monica with Rose, and we'd done everything she'd told Jack they would do together. We had cheap beer, rode on the roller coaster until we threw up (even less pretty than imagined), and rode horses on the beach. I passed a picture on the wall of me doing just that, Rose at my side laughing hysterically. We'd become significantly close; staying together for years after the sinking.

While in California, I received a deep shock: I was pregnant. The only man I'd ever been with was Tommy, so it could only be his. It sent me into a rather spiraling depression, knowing that Tommy would never live to meet his own child. I decided to go back to Pennsylvania, hoping to find peace in the thought that I would have been there with Tommy if he'd lived. Rose decided to come with me.

We bought a small dive apartment with the money we'd managed to make in Santa Monica, and made my money any way we could: seamstress, bartenders, and even a personal maid to a rich old woman at one point. I was doing anything to raise money to support the baby that was on the way. I would not let the only remaining bit of Tommy waste away.

The baby was born on January 19, 1913. It was a boy, that I named Thomas Gabriel Ryan. I'd never known Tommy's middle name, so I couldn't name him completely after his father. Instead of calling him Tommy, I called him Tom as a nickname.

Every night before he slept, I'd sing the song Tommy taught me to him. I didn't know the title, or who sung it, no one seemed to.

It was after all of that that I started to write Astronomy books, which were well received. I continued to write, making money that way and still working as a waitress on the side.

Eventually Rose's life had led her back to California, where she was now a relatively famous actress. We kept in touch, and I'd gone to visit her three years ago. I had been rather devastated when she left though, but I still had my son.

The years went by, and I lived day to day with Tom. I wrote my books and had them published, but they weren't earning enough money. Rose decided that she wanted to help me, so she used some of her acting money to enroll me in school to be a nurse. I did just that, and when I graduated, I moved to Arizona with Tom. We bought a perfect little two bedroom house with just enough space for the both of us.

That was nearly seven years ago now. It's been fourteen years since Tommy died, fifteen in 44 days. Not a day has gone by that he hasn't crossed my mind, and I still love him as I did all of those years ago.

I reached the kitchen, and saw that Tom was already there, eating cereal. I smiled at the sight of him, so like his father. My heart panged a little at how very alike they looked. He had the same curly hair (although it was my color), the same shade of hazel eyes, and he had the stocky build. I thought personality must be genetic, because he already acted a lot like him, even though he was only fourteen.

I kissed his cheek as I passed and he made a strange noise, like he had tried to cough, but hiccupped at the same time.

"Come on, ma," he said, frustrated, stabbing his cereal with the spoon. "I'm not a baby anymore."

"But you'll always be my baby," I promised him, grinning as I poured myself some coffee.

He grumbled, "Just never say that in front of my friends."

"Deal," I promised. He rolled his eyes. A lot of the time, he was the adult in the family, especially when Rose was around.

"You should go get dressed for school," I told him, checking the time. "I don't have time to drive you today."

"Alright," he said, getting out of his chair and traipsing to the stairs.

I cleared his bowl, and was getting ready to walk upstairs myself when the phone rang. I picked it up, and said, "Hello?"

"Good morning!" Rose's voice replied.

"Well, hello, Mrs. Calvert," I laughed. "How has the first week of being married been?"

"Great!" she exclaimed. "Did you know he can cook? I didn't!" Then she wasn't talking to me. "Daniel, don't look at me like that. You never told me you could cook!"

I rolled my eyes at her and her husband's playful banter on the other line. I'd never expected her to get married, but she had. It had surprised me, but I'd been more than happy to go to California to be her maid of honor. Tom had been the ring bearer.

I'd pondered getting married, but never truly considered it as a possibility. I knew I would never find anyone like Tommy again, but more importantly: no one could make me feel like he did. That was a onetime thing, and I was okay with that. I'd loved and lost, but it really was better than not loving at all.

"Anyway, Evelyn," Rose said, talking to me finally, "Daniel says hello."

"Tell him I said hi," I said flippantly, tossing a piece of hair behind my ear. "Rose, I'm going to have to call you later. I have to work."

"Oh, right, Nurse Ryan," she giggled. "I'll speak to you later. Love ya!"

"Love you too," I said, and then hung up.

I quickly put on my uniform, and walked downstairs to grab my purse and car keys.

"I'm leaving, mom!" I heard Tom call from the front door.

"Bye, darling!" I called back. The door slammed, and I followed soon after.

On the ride to work, I checked my reflection in the mirror on the sun visor. I looked fine, but I caught sight of something shining on my chest. It was the sun's reflection on the two wedding rings that I still wore around my neck. I hadn't taken them off since I'd received them besides to shower and swim. I had once put the smaller ring on my left ring finger, but it didn't feel right. It fit perfectly, but it was like a lie. I'd quickly returned it to my neck.

Tom knew the story behind them, and I saw him smile slightly whenever he saw them dangling around my neck. I was certain that Tom didn't want me to get married. He liked the idea of me only wanting his father, I think. If I was depressed about it, he would have changed his mind, but I was happy with just him and me. Some other man wouldn't have worked.

I finally arrived at work, and walked to the nurse's station where I clocked in.

"Hey, Evelyn," one of the other nurses said. I turned, and saw a younger girl named Jessica sitting there. She was popping her gum as usual, and looking at a chart. She had platinum blonde hair, and green eyes.

"Hi, Jess," I replied, looking at my work. "How are you?"

"I'm fine. How's the kid?"

I smiled. "He's good."

She nodded, and I saw her glance at my rings. A lot of people had asked me about them, Jessica did so every so often. I never talked about Tommy though, to anyone except for Tom, which was rare. Rose and I never spoke of our long lost loves. We had new lives now, ones that we'd promised them we'd have. To anyone else, I refused to tell them what I'd gone through. No one even knew I'd been a passenger on the doomed ship. I had always gone bu "Ryan".

"Hey, Evelyn, are you ever going to tell me about that necklace?" she suddenly asked, looking hopeful. She was a lot like the first class women I'd once been associated with; eager to gossip and loved a good story about someone. I just rolled my eyes, and handed her a chart.

"Get to work," I demanded.

/\/\/\/\/\

Four hours later, at twelve, I headed out for lunch. I normally brought my lunch, but Rose's phone conversation this morning had thrown me slightly off track.

I drove my car to a small shopping area about a mile away from the mall, and parked. I was going to walk to a place nearby that had good sandwiches. I strolled down the streets, enjoying the warmth. I had absolutely dreaded cold weather and water ever since that night fourteen years ago, which was a big factor in choosing Arizona.

I was about four shops down from the sandwich place when I saw her. She was walking down the street by herself, looking slightly lost. Her hair was the same, just like mine but curled into an elaborate bun. She looked thinner, but there was no doubt in my mind: my mother was walking down the street through the crowds, coming straight towards me.

I was frozen in horror. Out of everyone in the world I wanted to see right now, she was second to last, only to my father. She looked up, and our eyes met for a split second.

I bolted. She'd seen my eyes, and there was no way I'd be unidentifiable if she'd noticed the color. I heard someone calling my name, and picked up the pace. Up ahead there was a rather dirty alley I could take to get to the parking lot I'd used in the back. I prayed that she was too still too self-centered to walk in such a disgusting place and turned.

I was halfway down it when I heard hurried high-heeled footsteps behind me.

"Evelyn, stop!" she called. I froze, knowing there was no way I could hide now. I took a deep breath, and turned.

"What do you want, mother?" I asked.

Her eyes were bulging, and her mouth was open. She was clutching her heart. "You're real!" she gasped.

"Yes, I know," I sighed.

"My darling!" she gasped, launching herself forward to hug me. I didn't hug back, feeling rather resentful that she would act this way when the last interaction we'd had, she'd hit me in the face. I kept my arms firmly at my sides. She was sobbing, but I didn't care very much.

"Where have you been?" she asked, pulling away, and staring in my eyes. She started to stroke my face, and I only just refrained from swatting her hands away. "We thought you were dead."

"I've been away from you, which was my intention," I snapped. She looked taken aback.

"But why, love?" she asked.

"Don't call me love!" I snarled. "How can you stand here and act as if you missed me so? All you've cared about ha been appearance, ever since I was twelve! You _changed_, and I let everyone think I was dead because I wanted absolutely nothing to do with you or your COWARDLY HUSBAND!" My voice got louder until I screamed the last two words. I'd just spilled years of anger onto her in a few sentences, and it felt amazing to get my feelings off my chest.

She looked like I'd burned her. "Evelyn…we loved you! We only wanted what was best! I'm sure that if you'd sat us down calmly and told us you didn't want to marry Carlton, we would have understood…"

She continued to babble like that, but I'd stopped listening. I'd realized she didn't know…father hadn't told her about Tommy.

"You obviously," I cut across her, "are still as distant with father as you always were. He didn't tell you?"

Her head cocked to the side slightly. "Tell me what?"

"On the Titanic, I met a third class man," I said through clenched teeth. She winced. "I fell in love with him, but father threatened the both of us to stop seeing each other." She looked horrified, and opened her mouth to say something but I wasn't finished. "And he got his wish, didn't he? He killed a lot of people fourteen years ago when he commanded more and more speed from the captain, and the man I loved was one of them!"

She didn't say anything, and I was fiercely fighting back tears. So much bitterness was in my chest that I was unable to contain it.

"Evelyn, I didn't know," she whimpered. "I'm so _sorry_. I'm sorry I wasn't a better mother to you, and I'm sorry your father is such a…spiteful man. I always prayed that I'd get a chance to see you again to tell you I'm sorry for what I did and here you are, but I can't seem to get the words right." She took a deep breath. "The reason I became so frigid was because I felt that I was being a bad mother by my behavior. I saw how well behaved all of the other children were with their strict mothers, and you were so very resilient. I thought I was setting you up for disaster, so I came down hard on you all the time. If I had known how much I was hurting instead of helping, I wouldn't have…oh my darling, I'm so sorry."

I just stared at her, thinking I should feel sympathy or relief, but instead I felt apathy. To me, this woman, no matter what her excuses, was just another reason Tommy was dead. She'd not protested to me marrying Carlton, and if I hadn't been engaged things might have gone smoother. I wouldn't have felt guilty for being with Tommy, and wouldn't have lost precious time with him. I would have died with him on the ship, which had never seemed like that bad of thing.

"Say what you want, mother," I said quietly. "It doesn't change anything. I'm not the same. I never was a high society girl at heart, and you are. Goodbye."

I turned to walk away, but she grabbed my wrist. I turned back to see her face still streaming tears. "Please, Evelyn!" she cried. "Let me do something to make it up to you!"

I surveyed her distastefully. "All I want from you is to not tell anyone you saw me. I'm dead, remember?"

I walked away, and got back to my car. I remained tearless all the way back to the hospital, forgetting that I'd been there for food. I wasn't hungry now anyway. It blew my mind that I'd just run into her, in Arizona of all places! What was she doing down here? I felt odd, like I was in the Twilight Zone.

I didn't tell her she had a grandson. I already knew she was a grandmother from newspaper announcements on my nieces and nephews being born, but I didn't tell her about Tom. I was glad I hadn't. I didn't want her to weasel her way into his life. I had only told him my parents were wealthy people who didn't approve of my relationship with Tommy, and left it at that. He'd never asked about them further, and I was thankful for that.

I figured I would use my lunch hour to call Rose to tell her what had happened. I already decided I wouldn't tell Tom about this small encounter. He didn't have a grandmother before, and he didn't need one now.

Once I was parked, I sat alone in my car for awhile. My mind was reeling back to the days when my mother had been in my life, back when the Titanic hadn't sunk. A perfect image of Tommy appeared in my mind, and I smiled contentedly. Even though he was gone, I swear I could sometimes feel his presence like I used to be able to. I knew he was making sure that his family was safe, Tom and me. I had made a promise to him the very day I'd found out I was pregnant: his son would now about him and would know just how incredible he was. I'd kept it.

**Once again, not my favorite chapter, but I wanted closure between her and her mother. :P So there ya go. Next chapter is epilogue, and then my dedication and song list.**

**Thanks for reading, guys. I'm only asking for four reviews for this one because it was actually...bad. So yeah. :)**

**Love out to everyone.  
**


	14. Epilogue: Love Remains the Same

**So here it is: the conclusion to my first ever completed fanfic! I feel close to tears, but I'm smiling uncontrollably at the same time. xP **

**I'd like to thank every single person who took time out of their lives to read this. It really means a lot to me that you would do so, even if you didn't review or add this to your alerts or anything like that, it means a lot. :)**

**I'm going to properly thank everyone in the dedication update after this. I don't want to make you wait any longer, reading this A/N, so the song for this chapter is "Love Remains the Same" by Gavin Rossdale.**

**Read on (for the last time D:)  
**

_Love Remains the Same_

Decades later, Evelyn Ryan lay in her bed in the beautiful Arizona home she'd raised her son in. Her hair had turned pale white long ago, and wrinkles had creased her once pretty face. Her eyes were the same vibrant yellowish color they'd always been, and they were the only things that made her look identical to that nineteen year old girl that had boarded on the doomed Titanic.

She was currently flipping through an old scrapbook, smiling at some of the pictures, frowning at others. She hadn't looked at it in years, but today had seemed like the day. She knew when she'd realized that it was the day to look at the scrapbook that it was also the day for other things, things she had neglected doing for entirely too long.

Next to her bed was a table laden with more pictures. Most of the ones at the back depicted the same three people: a beautiful girl with flaming red hair, another pretty girl with dark brown hair, and a boy who grew from a baby to a man within the frames. The ones in the middle showed the same brunette girl with the same boy from the other pictures, showing his progression to adulthood in them. The one closest to the front showed the woman with her son, his beautiful wife, and her two granddaughters and grandson.

The picture at the very front of the mess though was of Evelyn with another woman with white hair, who was her long time best friend Rose Calvert. They had both been laughing wildly when the picture was taken; Evelyn had her head thrown back, and Rose was resting her head on her shoulder. It was only two weeks ago that it was taken.

The phone next to her bed rang, and she made a frustrated noise. She hated the damn thing, always making that terrible buzzing noise. She lifted it off the hook and said, "Hello?"

"Hello, dear!" chirped a bright voice from the other line.

"Rose!" Evelyn exclaimed, all irritation forgotten. "Did she have the baby?"

"Yup!" Rose laughed happily. "A little girl, 6 pounds, four ounces. That makes my sixth grandchild!"

"Congratulations, love!" Evelyn gushed. "What's her name?"

"Erika Rose," Rose said proudly. "I guilt-tripped him until he chose the middle name."

Evelyn laughed. "Just like you, of course."

Rose giggled. Old age had done little to deter her free spirit. Evelyn thought of when they were on the Titanic, how restrained they'd both been. It seemed like a long time ago, and not so long ago at the same time.

"So how are you holding up?" Rose asked.

"Well, I'm still getting over this damn cold," Evelyn sniffed unhappily. "Tom won't let me out of this bed for anything."

"And he shouldn't!" Rose said sternly. "You're 75. At your age you should be resting!"

"You're 73, and you still spend all of your time running around!" Evelyn pointed out.

"Ah, yes, I do. But when _I'm _75, I'll settle down."

"Ah, shut up, you hypocrite," Evelyn grumbled as Rose let out a peal of laughter. It was silent on the line for a moment until Evelyn muttered, "I'm going to give him the stuff today."

Rose sucked in her breath audibly. "Are you sure?"

"Positive. I've waited too long."

"You hold on another fifteen minutes, and I'll be there!" Rose said. Evelyn could her shuffling on the other side.

"No, Rose," Evelyn said firmly. "This is something I have to do on my own. He's my son, and he needs to get it all from me."

Rose was silent for a few seconds, but finally she said, "Call me later."

"Alright. Love you."

"Love you too, old lady." She hung up the phone. Evelyn snorted, and put the phone back in its original place.

Evelyn closed the scrapbook and her eyes, leaning her head back against the headboard.

It had been 56 years to the day since the worst and best day of her life, the day the Titanic sunk. She could still hear the screams of the people around her, the groaning of the metal as the ship fell lower and lower and the gunshots as the officers tried to keep the panicked people back. When she thought about that day, she still felt the freezing cold piercing every pore in her as she struggled to stay alive. She'd promised him...

She heard her front door open and shut. "Mom!" a man's voice called.

"I'm up here, Tom!" she called down to him, smoothing her blankets and staring at the open door expectantly.

When he appeared in the door a huge proud smile crossed her face. Thomas Gabriel Ryan, her only son, stood in the doorway. He was her pride and joy, the only thing that kept her going in the early years after the sinking. A long time ago, it used to make her heart ache with loss to stare at him. He was practically identical to his late father. But those times had long passed, and she only felt overjoyed when she would see him now. He had the same light brown curls, the same nose and mouth, and the same build. She knew that Tommy would have been so proud to have seen him grow as she did.

"Hey, mom," he said, leaning down to kiss her cheek before sitting in the armchair next to her bed. "I'm glad you haven't gotten out of bed."

She glowered at him. "Yes, well, lord knows I'd probably keel over in a heartbeat if I stood up for two seconds."

He looked at her like he was reprimanding a child. "Come on, mom, you're not 30 anymore."

"No shit?" she said playfully. He rolled his eyes with a fond smile.

"I'm glad you don't talk like that around the kids," he grumbled.

Her eyes lit up. "How are they?"

He grinned proudly. "Lily made the Dean's list, Sam got into every college he applied to, and Eden got her driving permit last week."

Evelyn laid her hand wearily over her heart. "Time goes by so fast," she sighed quietly.

He nodded, also with that faraway look. He shook his head a little bit, but finally said "So what did you have to tell me? You sounded kind of anxious on the phone."

"I think it's time I gave you some things," she said simply. She stood from the bed, and he tried to pull her back down.

"Come on, Ma, you can't-"

She swatted his hand away. "I can do what I want Thomas Gabriel! I'm not dead yet, and I'm still your mother!"

She walked to her closet, shifted some things around, but finally pulled out a cardboard box with no label.

"This is yours now," she said, pulling a large piece of black fabric from the box.

She unfolded it, and revealed that it was a worn black coat with a tear around the right shoulder and a missing button. "This was your father's," she said fondly, handing it over. "I didn't have a jacket the night of the sinking, so he gave this to me to wear. I wore it always for about a month after the sinking." Her face fell slightly. "It stopped smelling like him, and I couldn't look at it anymore."

He felt the fabric in his hands, noting how rough it was. He couldn't believe he was actually holding something that belonged to the man he'd never met, yet idolized. He didn't have anything that had belonged to him, and had actually believed his mother didn't own anything that was once his.

"And these," she said, taking off the necklace she'd been wearing for as long as he could remember. "He gave me those," she continued. "They were his parents' wedding rings." She chuckled quietly." He was so determined to save me. Your father was a magnificent man, baby. I'm so sorry you never had the chance to know him."

"I feel like I do know him," he assured her, "after what you've told me."

"You're so like him," she sighed, touching his cheek.

"Yeah, so you've told me," he laughed. She rolled her eyes.

"All I ask," she added, "is that you show this to my grandbabies. I want them to see what a wonderful man their grandfather was. I want them to know he was brave, and that he saved me every time I needed it." She looked at her lap, and said quietly, "Even if I didn't know I needed it." She said it so low that he didn't know if she was talking to him or herself.

Tom thought of his mother on the ship, and of his Aunt Rose going through the same things. His mother had hurt so much all of these years, losing the man she loved in a terrible accident, but she stuck around to take care of him. She tried so hard for him…it choked him up a little.

He nodded, trying to swallow the lump in his throat. "I think you should tell them."

"Well…we'll see." She gave him a secret smile, like she knew something he didn't. "Now get going. I just wanted to give you those. I'm tired, and I'm old. I have to rest."

He laughed. "Alright, mom. I'll try to bring the kids over next week." He packed everything back into the box, handling it like it was glass. When he was in the doorway he turned. "I love you, mom."

"I love you too, darling," she grinned.

She listened to his footsteps as he walked to her front door, heard it shut, and then listened as he started his car and left the house. She sat in solemn silence under the blankets of her bed for a long time after, and it was sunset soon enough.

She stared out of the window at the soft pink light, and let herself smile.

"Well," she said to the empty room, "I did it. I survived, just like you asked me to. I lived my life, and I raised our son. He's wonderful; you would have loved him. I did my best without you, and I think I did pretty well," She paused, but started again. "I told our son just how amazing you were, and I've passed you on, in my own way. I kept my biggest promise: I loved you from the day I met you and I never stopped. I've done what I had to do, Tommy. It's time."

She laid her head back against the headboard, feeling suddenly tired. Her eyes drooped suddenly, and a cold swept through her. She knew what was coming, and had all day. It had been the push she'd needed to give her son the only things of his father that she could. The smile wouldn't go away, and she settled in to her bed comfortably…

Her eyes slipped shut, and she was suddenly surrounded by bright sunlight. Though no windows had been open in her bedroom, a slight breeze ghosted across her skin. She squinted, but when her eyes adjusted she saw that she was standing at the bow of the Titanic, only feet away from the front of the rail. The few clouds were silhouetted beautifully against the bright orange of the sunrise. She could hear the water beneath them, so familiar a sound that it surprised her. Looking down at her hands she saw that they weren't wrinkled, but smooth with the youth she'd once had.

A shape suddenly formed at the curve of the railing, and it shifted, becoming clearer and clearer. It wouldn't have mattered if it remained blurry; she knew exactly who it was.

He materialized seemingly out of thin air, standing there just as she remembered him: the mass of curly hair, charming smile, worn and patched clothing, and a look of unchanged love in his hazel eyes. Tommy opened his arms to her.

"Welcome home, love," he said, his accent just as she remembered.

She ran forward, and sunk into the arms she'd been waiting for, for nearly sixty years.

She was home.


	15. Dedication and Song List

**_DEDICATIONS_**

First of all, I'd like to thank all of my reviewers: dEnIsE tHe StRaNgE, lovelydays, x XRoweenaJAugustineX x, lilyp23, neverforgetlove, Blairx6661, mentos93, scs09, You are my Beauty, oxkatizzlexo, Jessah82, Frieda van den Huetten, BeautyisintheeyeoftheBeholder, FabriHel, and everyone who reviewed anonymously. You were all so hopeful during the writing process, and I couldn't have had the confidence to post it all without you. You guys mean so much to me. :)

Second of all, those who added this story to their favorites: Blairx6661 , Dammi froze, dEnIsE tHe StRaNgE, FabriHel, hikachan3, ImaBiteChu, Jessah82, Mixed Reality, neverforgetlove, NobleKnightOfAmerica, oxkatizzlexo, scs09, spirit55, Sun-MoonGoddess, x XRoweenaJAugustineX x, and You are my Beauty . I'm so appreciative that you guys found my writing good enough to be worthy of being on your favorites list. You guys are awesome. :D

I would write out my list of everyone who added this to alerts, but it's entirely too long, which is good in itself. :P Thank you all for reading!

And to the people who truly helped me out during the writing process, and for keeping my spirits up during a really stressful time in my life: my mom, Jasmine (because you make me smile every day), Jerry, Erika (yeah, girl, I used your name in the story), Alex (I love you, and thank you for putting up with me when even _I_ didn't want to put up with me), Isaac, Chi Chi, Jessah82 (for being my amazing FFnet best friend and convincing me to write my Officer Lowe story when I'd lost faith in it (: ), and to my iPod and all of the music it contains (for inspiring me when I was at my worst).

Most of all, this is dedicated to those who lost their lives on the Titanic and their families. I can't even imagine what they went through, and I hope they're all peace now, wherever they are.

_**SONGS (lyrics that inspired me, and the songs the chapter titles came from)**_

The title came from "Pretty You" by Dropout Year. It's a really good song, and the line stuck out to me. "_And I can see us dancing in circles, like nobody's watching. We'll never have to stop ourselves from getting close enough until we meet here just like this. Here in my arms as I held you at 2:28, we can always feel this way. So please stay. The puzzle piece that makes this boy complete is where you lay. Tomorrow comes too soon. And even though I know my way around. So close, you promise a life to be found. You're taking me to where I'm meant to be. It's 2:29, and the three words I've come to find: I love you. These words are mine."_

Obviously "Falling Slowly" by Glen Hansard, which was the song Tommy sung to Evelyn. It's hauntingly beautiful to me. :P

The song that I thought best describes Tommy and Evelyn's relationship is "Take My Hand" by The Cab. It's not a very romantic song, but it's about letting yourself go and not letting people change you. "_Are you sure now? Don't bother packing, just leave. Said they wanted change. I hope that you remain the same to show that this is not a game. Let's end this tragedy today. Now take my hand, and we will run away down to this place that I know. How did this night become the enemy? It's over, it's over, it's over."_

The song I'd used to describe Tommy: "Still Breathing" by Mayday Parade. "_I'm hopeless, but hoping my lungs won't fail me now 'cause I'm still breathing. It's hard to be a man, but I'm doing all I can. I'm ready to give this all I have. I'm ready to be amazing. 'Cause I'm standing here alone, trying to make this life my own. And nothing will keep this heart from beating. I'm still breathing. Promise me some dignity if I were to stand and die here. 'Cause my heart is somewhere else. It's a pain I've never felt."_

Evelyn's song is "Numb" by Linkin Park. "_I'm tired of being what you want me to be. Feeling so faithless, lost under the surface. I don't know what you're expecting of me, put under the pressure of walking in your shoes. Every step that I take is another mistake to you. I've become so numb. I can't feel you there. I've become so tired, so much more aware. I'm becoming this. All I want to do is be more like me, and be less like you. Can't you see that you're smothering me? Holding too tightly, afraid to lose control. 'Cause everything you thought I would be is falling apart right in front you."_

Songs that I used as inspiration for Tommy's feelings towards Evelyn: "I'm Yours Tonight"-The Academy Is... "_Everywhere you go, they say I'm bad news, and everyone agrees. Whispers start sounding like screams. But I know what you want to say before the words escape your teeth. Will you trust in me? I'll help you find your way every moment you're awake. You know I'll stay, even in your dreams. I'll pull the stars down from the heavens to fill your empty skies. I'm yours tonight."_

"Love Affair"-Boys Will Be Boys "_You're nothing short of my everything, so wait. I'm all you've got, and you know it's true. Love is written all over you, and you still try to survive. Just say this love affair will never end."_

"Your Guardian Angel"-Red Jumpsuit Apparatus "_I will never let you fall. I'll stand up with you forever. I'll be there for you through it all, even if saving you sends me to heaven 'cause you're my...you're my, my true love, my whole heart. Please don't throw that away. 'Cause I'm here for you. Please don't walk away, and please tell me you'll stay. Stay."_

Songs that I used for inspiration for Evelyn's feelings for Tommy: "It Was You"-12 Stones "_I was sick of all the pain. Tired of all the shame that I've held, but you showed me a way to never have a doubt and always to believe in myself. Now I see that it was you that showed me who I am__, and taught me how to stand for what I know is real. _ Now I'm breathing for the first time, and I'm leaving all this behind. I've become what I am because of you. It was you. I'm so sorry about the ways that I can't take away my past. But you got me anyway. Now I want to do everything for you that I can even though it won't erase the foolish things that I've done; things that blinded me, but now I see that it was you that showed me who I am."

"Smother Me"-The Used "_Show me that you can take some comfort knowing that you're mine. Just hold me tight. Lay by my side, and let me be the one who calls you 'baby' all the time. I've found my place in the world; could stare at your face for the rest of my days. Now I can breathe. Turn my insides out, and smother me. Warm and alive, I'm all over you. Would you smother me? Let me the one who never leaves you all alone. I hold my breath, and lose the feeling that I'm on my own. Hold me too tight. Stay by my side."_

"Worlds Away"-From First to Last "_Across the world with you, across the world with you. The love you never found was right here all along, waiting here for you. Waiting here for you. When words mean nothing, I'll be here singing on and on and on and on. Worlds away, I'll still be singing on and on and on and on."_

Songs that I used for inspiration of Evelyn's feeling when Tommy dies: "The Past the Love the Memory"-A Skylit Drive "_Let me take this time to ask you, inform you of all the things you did not know. I'm sorry I can't be the cure for your life. You were always be my side. Life spent without rain. You will always be...the heart in me. You will always be: the past, the love, the memories."_

"Everything We Had"-The Academy Is... "_Take the pain out of love, and then love won't exist. Everything we had is no longer there, longer there. Well, you saw for yourself the way it played out. For you, I am blinded. For you, I am blinded. For you."_

"Beauty from Pain"-Superchick "_The lights go out all around me, one last candle to keep out the night. And then the darkness surrounds me. I know I'm alive, but I feel like I've died. And all that's left is to accept that it's over. My dreams ran like sand through the fist that I made. I try to keep warm, but I just grow colder. I feel like I'm slipping away. After all this has passed, I still will remain. After I've cried my last, there'll be beauty from pain. Though it won't be today, someday I'll hope again, and there'll beauty from pain. You'll bring beauty from my pain. My whole world is the pain inside me. The best I can do is just get through the day. When life before is only a memory, I'll wonder why God lets me walk through this place. And though I can't understand why this happened, I know that I will when I look back someday and see how you've brought beauty from ashes, and made me as gold purified through these flames. Here I am, at the end of me, trying to hold to what I can't see. I've forgot how to hope. This night's been so long. I cling to your promise: there will be a dawn."_

_**CHAPTER TITLES**_

1) "Somewhere I Belong"-Linkin Park

2) "Running From Lions"-All Time Low

3) "Who Knows"-Avril Lavigne

4) "Be My Escape"-Relient K

5) "Unforgettable Night"-Jamestown Story

6) "Wonderless"-Pierce the Veil

7) "Stop Crying Your Heart Out"-Oasis

8) "Brighter"-Paramore

9) "Heartbeat"-Stereo Skyline

10) "6 Months"-Hey Monday

11) "Time of Dying"-Three Days Grace

12) "Early Mourning"-Alesana

13) "My Heart Will Go On"-Celine Dion

Epilogue) "Love Remains the Same"-Gavin Rossdale

Disclaimer: I don't own these songs or the lyrics to them. Everything belongs to their respective writers and performers. I also don't own the Titanic, the ship or the movie. I just borrowed them for this little story. :)


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